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starsofang · 3 months

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CALL OF THE SEA / PART THREE

pirate poly!141 x f!reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, mentions of violence, blood, injury, 141 are still mean pirates, very brief mentions of death masterlist

When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.

The words of Captain Price weighed heavily on your mind. With little distractions to guide you away from them, they were all you were left with. They replayed on a consistent loop, like a broken record player. It was taunting, the way your own mind betrayed you after pleading with it not to think of the cold dose of reality the Captain had given you. It denied your requests for soothing calm and gifted you with roaring waves of chaos.

The Captain had been right. Every last word was coated in nothing but bitter truth, and you hated it.

Your village was nothing but unkind to you, and you knew it. You tried to defend them, tried to reason with why they could have been so cruel to you, but with only yourself and the sounds of the sea to fill the abyss in your head, your defense was bound to crumble.

It wasn’t your fault you were different, at least compared to the traditionalists you grew with. Being born in a secluded hamlet separated from the bustling mainland meant the people were just as isolated. Hermits, they were. They sought simplicity through actions shown by the book. Marriage, children, with women to remain in their place at home. It was a dream to some, and a nightmare to you.

You wanted more. There was a vast world out there for you to mark your claim on, yet your own people disregarded your desires. They turned on you, taunting you as the village outcast, one that many continued to torment well into adulthood. You were one against many, and you only had yourself in the long run.

You worked hard for what you had. Despite the consistent abuse your people had given you, you sought out adventure like a moth to a flame. It called out to you. Learning of medicines and practices to become more of the miniscule woman everybody saw you as was your safe haven. You wanted to explore the world and take your practices to a place where you’d be accepted as one’s own.

Then those pirates had taken that away from you. Not only had they stolen your dreams, but they had stolen your home, people, and passion. Everything was lost at the drop of a hat.

Being a medic for a scroungy group of thieving pirates was not in your cards. Before, you hadn’t even known pirates were existent. They were a simple folk tale, something to share on quiet nights when the village had grown bored. Never did you think you would come across one, let alone four who had taken it upon themselves to make you their problem.

You feared that you would never achieve your dreams of being a proper medic. Of never escaping to the mainland where you could begin a tranquil life consisting of you and your studies. Now, it seemed that you would never experience peace or independence. Your dreams were embezzled, lost in the foamy waves that lapped against the side of the ship.

The grieving of your loss didn’t stop, even during Soap and Gaz’s visits. They kept it minimal, presumably under the Captain’s orders, or because they simply didn’t like you enough to further interaction. Not that you wanted them to, anyway, though it would’ve made the aching loneliness a bit more bearable.

They noticed, of course. The way your eyes began to sink in, casting a grim shadow across your face, or the way you no longer bared your teeth at them when they approached. Pirates like them didn’t care for people like you. You were a pawn in whatever game they were playing, and you didn’t know the rules.

The sound of heavy footsteps on the deck above you rattled you awake. The cot was fairly useless in providing you comfort, but you had succumbed to your eventual exhaustion over the course of your capture that you had grown used to it.

Unlike normal days, where their steps were more quiet and calculated, this time sounded like a frenzy. Uncoordinated, merging together in loud pitter patter. It was unsettling, lighting an icy chill in your bones. Even in the seclusion of the brig, the air felt thick with tension, as if the pirate’s suspense had crept through the crack under the door and spread throughout the ship.

The floorboards creaked menacingly from above. Your ears pricked at every stomp, every slam of the soles of their thick boots against the old wood. It was as if death was stalking you from the shadows, creeping in, jeering at you. You were in the dark, unaware.

You wondered if other pirates had invaded the ship. Perhaps this was your end. You’d be found by enemies and treated much more unkindly in the hands of men who only saw you as a mere woman and not the potential to be a medic.

Though your pirates were just as cruel, they hadn’t harmed you. They hurt your people, but salvaged you to make use of your knowledge. They weren’t as terrible as what may have lurked the waters. Maybe it was simply the fear talking, but if what you thought was true, then you prayed to whatever god was listening that you remain in the safe hands that had yet to pose a threat to you.

Your prayers were answered by the harsh sound of the door opening. It wrenched open, slamming up against the wall with a crack. Dim light poured through, down to your cell, illuminating a faint glow enough for you to see.

Atop the stairs, a large figure lurked, blocking out the light. It cocooned around him, casting an eerie shadow and successfully masking away his face.

Fear shot through your veins, burning like a raging fire, lighting you up from the inside. It threatened to combust, inching you towards a scorching agony. It clouded your mind, fogging over the logic and replacing it with racing thoughts of choking terror. You thought of death, torture, being swept away from this brig, only to be placed in a more torturous one with strangers out to harm you. To be used for pleasure and entertainment by a group of savage pirates unbeknownst to you.

“Get up,” a voice barked at you. It was rough and throaty, exuding pure authority. It was also familiar.

The sound of metal clanking on metal filled your eyes and once you had pieced together your mind enough, you realized it was the key unlocking your cell. The door opened, the figure stepping into your cell and closer to you, where you lay on the cot. It loomed over you, shielding you away from escape.

“Get up,” he ordered again. A hand reached out to you, cold, rough fingers wrapping around your bicep and lugging you off of the cot and on to your feet. There was no time for arguments. You recognized Ghost’s stony mask, and you knew fighting him would prove fruitless.

“What’s going on?” you asked, legs straining to keep up with his pace as he tugged you up the rickety stairs.

“Captain’s hurt,” Ghost gruffed, only the narrow of his eyes peeking through the eye holes of the skull mask, giving you a glimpse of his disgruntlement. “Need a medic. That’s you, birdie.”

Your heart sank to your stomach for numerous reasons.

For one, the smallest part of you worried for the Captain. No matter his actions thus far, he was hurt and required medical attention, enough of it that Ghost had prompted you out of your cell after residing there for the past month.

Then there was the fact that they were asking you for help. Sure, you technically were a medic. One in practice, but you knew the basics of medicines. However, the problem arose that you didn’t know much beyond that. If the Captain truly was injured to an extent beyond your skill, you feared they’d throw you over the ship and into the murky waters once they deemed you useless.

The misty air hit you the moment you stepped out of the brig and on to the upper deck. It was chilly despite it being summer, with the ocean breeze curling into your dingy hair and across your cheeks. The feeling was nothing short of relieving, to breathe in fresh air that filled your lungs, clearing them of the musty tang of brig air.

It was still midnight, but the moon was bright enough to have your eyes squinting, adjusting. Even the feel of it on your skin was like sweet kisses after a period of solitude.

That wasn’t what was important, though. Ghost had your arm in a chokehold, and he was urgently dragging you across the deck and towards the front of the ship. None of the other men were found, but you’d quickly find them when Ghost yanked open a door leading to the Captain’s quarters.

Inside, Captain Price was propped up lazily against the side of a large table, covered in maps and quills. A small pot of ink had been tipped over and spilled, tainting the papers with splotchy black. Drips of his blood had swirled into the mix, and the sight of it made you sick.

Price’s hand was smothering a gnarly gash on his side, fingers seeping over with crimson blood. Soap stood beside him with Gaz, the two of them seemingly anticipating your arrival. The moment they locked eyes with you, they stood up straight, expressions impatient.

“Took ye long enough, Ghost,” Soap boasted snarkily. Ghost huffed from beside you, pushing you by your arm and sending you towards Price.

“Fix him up,” Ghost commanded, stern. You blinked at him before switching to look at the Captain.

Price was a bit paled, skin clammy with sweat despite the chill in the air. He seemed more annoyed than pained, face pulled taut with a frown deepened beneath his beard. His eyes bore into yours threateningly.

“I don’t—“ you stared, stumbling over your words. “I don’t know how to stitch, I told you, I’m not a professional—“

“Surely you’ve had practice once or twice, haven’t you?” Price reckoned, cocking his head at you.

“Only on injured animals,” you defended. “I don’t know how to stitch on people.”

Price clicked his tongue, a hint of agitation gesred behind it. “Can’t be much different. Allow me to be your experiment, dove. You want to be a professional? Figure it out.”

You stared at him, bewildered. You knew there was no room for argument, nor was there any time. He was bleeding into the palm of his hand, wound sliced open from what you assumed was a sharp blade. You didn’t have the chance to think about how he possibly could’ve been injured in that way.

“Well? Go on, dove, it ain’t goin’ to heal itself,” Soap urged in annoyance, giving a light shove to your shoulder. Not enough to move you from your position, but enough to snap you into order.

“I need my supplies,” you explained. “Surely, you kept them.”

“Tch. Not stupid, dove,” Price snipped. With his free hand, he clumsily fumbled for one of the drawers of the table he leaned upon. Yanking it open, it was sent to the floor with a crash, sending its contents scattering.

The action was savvy and if you weren’t in a frenzied rush, you would’ve had the mind to be irritated. However, you remembered your place, as well as the people you were being forced to serve. It wouldn’t be wise to bark back at them for throwing around your work so carelessly.

You were quick to drop to the floor and begin retrieving what was necessary. Supplies were scarce, seeing as you weren’t fortunate enough to grow up on the mainland where demand was much more accessible.

Making a mental note to ask for them to collect more items for you, that is if this was really going to be your life, you clattered the items on the table Price rested on, making quick work of tugging stitching thread through the tiny needle.

The job would be sloppy, especially with the way your hands shook. You knew good and well that if anything were to happen to these pirate’s Captain, you’d be first one off the ship, sent to God knows where.

All eyes were on you. It was unnerving.

Soap remained next to Gaz, both watching you like a hawk. Their eyes studied every movement of your fingers as they worked through the threads, preparing to stitch up Price as requested.

Ghost stood near the door leading to the deck, arms crossed and eyes piercing into you like a warning threat. And really, you knew that’s what it was.

Price was awfully calm for a man who’d been stabbed, and you briefly wondered if this was something pirates were used to. Harming others was one thing. Gaining injury themselves was another.

Lucky for you, the Captain wasn’t wearing any fabrics. He must’ve taken his shirt off when he returned to his quarters, which made things easier for you.

“Remove your hand,” you said, before adding on, “please.”

Price huffed out what could’ve been mistaken as a laugh, though you highly doubted it. He carefully pulled his hand away from his wound, slippery with blood. The sight was quite gruesome, though you were sure it was just the blood making it so.

Taking a deep breath, you positioned yourself in front of the Captain. You dug deep in your memory of the times you’d operated on helpless animals you’d found in the outskirts of your village.

Animals were easier. They were more pliant and obedient. Some were squirmy, though being much smaller than you gave you advantage over them.

Price, though, was significantly bigger. And human. He was far from any animal you aided.

With his arm out of the way, you had a showcase of numerous scars scattering his torso. They were white, indicating they were much older, but some were still risen with pink tissue that revealed being more recent.

You had your hands full. Truly.

“I’m going to begin now,” you told Price.

“Don’t need to narrate the whole operation to me, medic. Just do it.”

Price’s tone was sarcastic and a tad bit mean. If he was aiming to offend you, he was doing a poor job. You’d taken ridicule all your life.

Brushing it off, you used nimble hands to make the first insertion of the needle, threading through the first stitch. Price showed no discomfort, though the eyes of the others didn’t help your unease. You felt like a lab rat and they were the ones operating on you.

The stitching became easier the more it went on. He needed quite a few, though the practice was appreciated. Your hands became more steady and your heart was no longer in your throat.

The room was at a standstill up until the very moment you tightened the stitches, tying them off and pulling yourself away from Price. Your work was far from perfect, but it was doable.

“Finished, are you?” Price hummed. You nodded in confirmation. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You bit your tongue to hold back mockery until the taste of metallic flooded your tastebuds.

“I’ve only worked on animals. It appears you are no different than one,” you bit back calmly, shiftingyour attention to organizing the supplies Price had so carelessly tossed to the floor.

Soap let out an obnoxious snort, while Price only cocked his head in faint amusement.

“You might want to watch your tongue there, dove. Ghost has taken out many,” Price informed.

That was enough to send shivers down your spine because you knew he was being truthful.

A quick glance to Ghost showed no indication of lies, so you quickly averted your eyes, opting to avoid him. You didn’t want to imagine the horrors Ghost had caused from his hands alone. He was a force not to be reckoned with, and you’d happily stay far, far away.

“I still need to apply an herbal balm and wrap it.” You changed the topic in hopes of forgetting your slip of tongue. You rather liked keeping it in your mouth.

“Very well,” Price sighed. With a gesture of his head, he signaled the other three men out of his quarters, leaving you alone in the room with him.

It was eerily quiet between the two of you while you worked a calming balm into the tender skin around his wound, careful not to touch the fresh stitches. The herbs were a mixed paste you had created back in your village from the supplies Mary had gifted you, and they proved futile now in a sensitive time.

You wished she were here to take you away from this nightmare fueled ship. Though, you couldn’t deny it any longer — you knew she was dead, just like the rest of the village. There was nothing you could do about it.

This was your life. This was your journey. Your opinion on the matter wasn’t valid.

“Quite the snippy one, aren’t you?” The Captain’s voice broke the tense silence, though it did nothing to calm you. “I heard from a little bird that some fortnights ago, you threw your porridge on to Gaz.”

Your shoulders pulled taut in a mix of embarrassment and shame. It was as if you were a child being scolded.

“I did,” you admitted quietly.

“And you do not feel bad?” Price questioned.

“No.”

“Hm.” A smile tilted on his face, lazy just as the other ones, as if he had no energy to display the true nature of a smile. “I will hand it to you, dove, he can be quite a brat sometimes. Perhaps he deserved it.”

You glanced up from his injury to look into his eyes. Your eyebrows tugged together in confusion.

You were fully expecting outrage, or perhaps the Captain to reprimand you for taking your anger out on his crew. Instead, he seemed almost like a jokester.

That couldn’t be. He was cruel and heartless, just as the others were. It didn’t matter how much Soap jested with you, or Gaz no longer glared at you. They were still pirates.

“I am all finished up here,” you explained, clearing your throat and taking a step back. “May I return to my cell?”

The cell was the last place you wanted to be in, but it was the only haven you’d found on the ship. You certainly didn’t want to stick around the other pirates for longer than necessary.

“Nonsense,” Price mused. “You have proven to have enough skill as a medic. You’re useful and resourceful. You won’t be able to work well in that dingy cell.”

You felt a pit of nervousness fill the void in your stomach. It did somersaults, making your mouth water with the need to be sick.

This was what you wanted, right? To be accepted into the crew so that you may plot your escape down the road when the time proved right. So why did it feel strange to be praised by the very man who had slaughtered your village?

“I will be staying in the upper decks, then?” you assumed, and he chuckled.

“We don’t quite have a cot set up yet, dove. We weren’t exactly expectin’ you to last, yet here you are.” He sounded almost prideful saying that, and you weren’t sure whether to feel comforted. “You’ll join me in my quarters for now. It only makes sense while I’m healin’ up, hm?”

That pit in your stomach turned into a canyon. To share a bed with the Captain of a malicious pirate crew, watching over him as his nurse? Perhaps this was your way out, or the start of your downfall.

Either way, you either ended up dead, imprisoned, or homeless on the mainland. Homeless, but free. You’d be an idiot not to play into the game.

You could do nothing but bow your head in silent agreement, unable to decide your fate once again. You were at the hands of the Captain and his crew, and those hands may be bloodied and mean if you said otherwise. hands may be bloodied and painful if you said otherwise.

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lcvclywon · 4 months

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teaser 𓍯𓂃 SO HIGHSCHOOL | ot7 series

back to masterlist

taglist ── open! until 29/5/2924 send an ask or comment to be added! | @floweryang @cupidhoons @ak-aaa-li @yvjw @xiaoderrrr @jlheon @junislqve @roastandtoast @un06 @lilyuwon @bywons @venn-ie @yongbokified @jwsdoll @tobiosbbyghorl @laurradoesloveu @chaehyunloveeee @shawnyle @en-gelic @hwangism143 @bbinwrld @deffnotnia @belovedsthings @honeywonuu @k1ttylvr @dimplewonie @llvrhee @fateenthisast @sasfransisco @tokkisann @jaklvbub @nazwrites-2002 @sseishiross @nshmrarki

DISCLAIMERS! i'm not trying to sexualize enhypen nor any other idols, this is a work of fiction. I do not actually view them like this in real life. Please do not copy nor plagarise.

thoughts frm yuya 💭 ack !!! blurb + announcement post finally out hehe >< each fic will be realllyyyy long so please do be patient with the posts TT Jay one will prob release first! I'll be releasing them throughout June + July so make sure to stay tuned for each post !! I will not be making separate taglists for each story unfortunately. Also huge huge HUGE thanks to my pookies @cupidhoons @bywons and @wonfilms for all the help on this, they legit helped me develop so many of the stories so i'm so grateful for that ^^ anw hope u guys are excited as I am about this !! (also apologies the header pics look so ass....all my design ideas were gone)

You know how to ball I know Aristotle | LEE HEESEUNG

READ HERE

where...

You hate heeseung. You hate his toothy grin, you hate his obnoxiously loud laugh, you hate his roaring athleticism, and you've hated his guts ever since he dropped you in grade 7 for those stupid basketballers. Ever since then Lee Heeseung has never held a place in your heart, every waking moment you spent in the same building with him you were filled with sheer pettiness. But when your broadcasting club leader hands you an offer you can't refuse, can you put aside your differences for once and work with him?

pairing ── heeseung x female reader

genre ── forced proximity, childhood friends to enemies to lovers, popular basketball player x broadcasting club

wc ── est 12k or more

warnings ── cursing, heeseung lwk a dickhead, kissing, alcohol, underage drinking, fighting, they're both kinda evil

release date ── tba

So tell me, who else is gonna know me? | PARK JONGSEONG

READ HERE

where...

Park Jongseong and Baek Y/N: the two biggest names in Decelis and two richest. Jay knew he would be bringing a date to his brothers wedding at the end of the school year, but he didn't expect that partner to be you of all people. After a small white lie Jay finds himself entangled in a rouse to fool his parents that you and him are now dating. This however seems to be a bigger blessing than you realise. While both using each other as pawns you find yourself "dating" Jay until the wedding; but as a four day trip ensues feelings change, lines get crossed, and walls come down.

pairing ── Jay x female reader

genre ── fake dating, childhood connection, rich kid au, one bed trope, slight angst

wc ── est 17k or more

warnings ── cursing, kissing, slight suggestiveness if you squint?, both of them are lwk nepo babies, slight familial issues, mentions of food, mentions of weddings, pet names

release date ── tba - maybe sometime this month ?

Everything comes out of teenage petulance | SIM JAEYUN

READ HERE

where...

Sixth grade, that was when you first laid eyes on Jake Sim and you swore in that moment were what the poets called: lovestruck. Ever since that day you've been harbouring a massive crush on your older brothers best friend, a crush that would never be reciprocated unfortunately. However this was a fact you've learned to come to terms with. But in the midst of Junior year, when your physics grades are at the cusp of failure, your parents suggest Jake to help tutor you. When your repressed crush seems to resurface, you may not be as hopeless as you seem.

pairing ── Jake x female reader

genre ── brothers best friend x reader, forbidden romance, tutor x tutee, obvious x oblivious

wc ── est 11k or more

warnings ── cursing, kissing, age gap of like 1 year (jake is a senior and YN is a junior I SWEAR ITS NOT WEIRD), taesan as the older brother and hes protective as shit please bear with that, inspired by hidden love obv

release date ── tba

I died on the altar waiting for the proof | PARK SUNGHOON

READ HERE

where...

Following your parents death you abruptly are forced to move to Jinhae to live with your aunt. You love your life in Jinhae working in your aunts cafe, your life was quiet. However that was all until Park Sunghoon showed up one day, out of the blue, completely unannounced. To make matters worse he ends up having to work with you at your aunts cafe. Everything resurfaces: both the fond memories and nasty ones. Can you manage to work peacefully with each other both at work and school, or will your unresolved feelings threaten to strain your already troubled relationship.

pairing ── Sunghoon x female reader

genre ── exes to lovers, enemies to lovers, workplace romance (? kinda), forced proximity, misunderstandings, angst, small town romance

wc ── est 16k or more

warnings ── cursing, kissing, sunghoon and yn being at each others throats, they're both kinda evil to each other, a lot of misunderstandings, pet names, parents death, mentions of grief

release date ── tba - maybe early next month or late this month

What if he's written 'mine' on my upper thigh | KIM SUNOO

READ HERE

where...

Sunoo and YN. Everyone knew both your names went hand in hand with each other since preschool. Sunoo always made it clear how much he liked you, that perhaps might've been the downfall of your relationship in highschool. After his incessant confessions you learned to grow indifferent to his quick pickup lines between lessons. You don't like Sunoo like that, you'll never be able to see him like that. But when he suddenly starts dating Seol Yoona, you can't help but feel a pang of jealousy strike your heart. However with the help of Jungwon you hope to solve the conflicts straining your relationship.

pairing ── Sunoo x female reader

genre ── soulmates au, grumpy x sunshine, childhood friends to enemies to lovers, second lead syndrome

wc ── est 11k or more

warnings ── cursing, kissing, yn is kinda evil and sunoo is way better than me fr i would have dropped her, sunoo also kinda desperate tho, kinda ? using jungwon as a pawn, fighting, slight angst, pet names

release date ── tba

You gonna marry, kiss, or kill me? | YANG JUNGWON

READ HERE

where...

1st rank: Choi YN. You could always trust that your name would be top of the list all. the. time. That was until highschool at least when you transferred to Decelis for higher academic challenge. However what you didn't expect was for said higher academic challenge to come in a teenage boy with annoyingly deep dimples. Yang Jungwon. Student council president and your sworn rival since the moment you stepped into Decelis. With you two being top students, president and vice president, and not to mention the two top debaters in school, it was safe to say almost every aspect of your highschool life revolved around beating Jungwon. But when you are forced to work with him in debate for nationals, you find yourself truly questioning why you hated him to begin with.

pairing ── Jungwon x female reader

genre ── academic rivals to lovers, forced proximity, top student x student council president

wc ── est 16k or more

warnings ── cursing, kissing, loosely based off of Ann Liangs 'If you could see the sun', some fighting, yn and jungwon at each others throats all the time, theyre kinda hella mean to each other, mentions of anxiety, academic pressure

release date ── tba - mid of june maybe?

Fuck it if I can't have him | NISHIMURA RIKI

READ HERE

where...

Riki Nishimura had a reputation: an all round bad influence, bottom of his class, and had more absences than presences flooding his attendance card; everyone believed he was a lost cause. So imagine your surprise when you and and him were sitting side by side at the principals office while he explained the new tutoring program that would be set in place for him. Well now there was another thing to add to his reputation: YN's student. Reluctantly accepting the proposal you find yourself entangled in RIki's complicated life. While getting to know each other more and more, you realise there's more to Riki than meets the eye.

pairing ── Niki x female reader

genre ── trouble maker x goody two shoes, tutor x tutee, obvious x oblivious, student council president x bad boy, he falls first you fall harder

wc ── est 16k or more

warnings ── cursing, kissing, smoking, drinking, fighting, mentions of injury and cuts, riki lwk being a little shit at the start, teacher involvement/meddling, YN under a LOT of pressure

release date ── tba

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 1 year

Note

Hear me out.... Steven with a praise kink 👀

You jokingly call him a good boy (because I call him my human golden retriever) and BAM. Confused boner! You take advantage of it and keep teasing him.

(Marc and Jake would never let him live it down, either)

Ijcioajfidi HELP. THIS. AHHH. I’m not sure why chess playing came into my brain. But here we are, reader likes and plays chess and is pretty good at it.

(Side note: in one typo I wrote ‘chestboard’ instead of ‘chessboard’. You just know my subconscious is thinking about Steven’s boobs.)

Good Boy

Steven Grant x F!Reader Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?

Warnings: INSTANT BONER, p in v sex, teasing, swearing, typos, rail road sentences, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning!

Word Count: 2147

_______________________________________

“So, think about how you would stop me.” You said as you looked from the chessboard to Steven.

His brow was furrowed in concentration, his glasses pushed high on his nose. A few rough curls dangled over his forehead as he bit softly at his thumb in thought.

“I could move here?”

“That’s really good.” You smile. “Excellent move, because you’ve also stopped my bishop.” You point to the piece on the board.

Steven smiled. He liked chess, played against the computer occasionally. But it wasn’t much more than a way to pass the time.

However when he found out that you had won some amateur competitions when you were in school, and that you still played regularly, his excitement at the prospect of playing a game with you was so completely heart-warming that you instantly said yes.

In the first game, you’d been determined to go easy on him. Just to get a feel of Steven as a player. You’d accidentally won in less than ten minutes.

There had been a small tinge of panic, a worry that, like some of the previous partners you’d had, he would be annoyed. Instead Steven grinned, thrilled that you’d beaten him and sung your praises until you were so positively overwhelmed you had had to kiss him repeatedly to get him to stop.

This was your second game. He had asked in that delightfully enthusiastic way he had if you could play again, “if it’s not too much trouble love, and you want to of course, don’t want to be annoying, do I? No. But I’d love it if you could teach me some strategies?”

“So I’m going to move here,” you picked up your knight and moved it slowly.

Steven frowned. “But then I can take it?”

“I know.” You grinned.

He paused and looked at you, unable to stop himself from smiling at your glee and then nodded. “Okie dokie, there’s something I’m not seeing then.”

“Is there?” Your innocent tone didn’t fool him for a second.

“There definitely is.”

You chuckled, looking back to the board. “Good boy. Look, take your time, but don’t worry if you can’t find it, I’ll explain.”

There was a long pause. You frowned a little and glanced back to him. His eyes were a little wide, his cheeks dusted with pink. He was sitting stiffly now, his hand clenched into a fist with his knuckles pressed against his mouth.

“Steven?”

“Hmm.” The sound was too quick. He didn’t look up from the board.

“You okay?”

He nodded, a short sharp and very un-Steven-like movement.

You paused for a second, looking at his features carefully as you wondered if Marc or Jake had fronted suddenly. Though, why they would try to hide it from you, you weren’t sure.

On further inspection you were pretty sure that it was Steven.

“You sure you’re okay.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He mumbled and swallowed, looking through the board and not seeing it.

“Okay…” You swallowed, watched him for a moment longer before you pointed at your rook. “If you take my knight, I’m going to take your pawn with my rook and you’ll be in check. You can’t take the rook with your queen because then you’d be in check here. So you’d have to move your king like this, and then I could move my other bishop and you’d be in checkmate.”

You looked up at him, chewing your bottom lip. Had he had enough? Was he bored? Fed up of your explanations?

“Okay. Right. So I won’t do that, I’ll move here.” He spoke quickly, still not looking at you.

You nodded, watching his move. “Good, so…”

The moment ‘good’ left your mouth Steven sucked in a breath, shuddering.

A sound you very much recognised.

Oh.

You quickly thought over your previous conversion: move this piece, are you okay, take your time, good boy-

Good boy. That was it.

A small smile stretched across your lips. Steven was still staring, fixated, at the chessboard and didn’t notice. He moved his piece silently.

You waited a beat before you spoke. “That’s a great move Steven, good boy.”

He shivered straight away, his breathing hitched. He tried to cover the sound with his hand as he closed his eyes.

“What’s wrong Steven?” You teased slowly.

His eyes snapped up to yours, wide and embarrassed.

“Don’t you like being called a good boy?”

The smallest groan grumbled in his chest, his muscles tensing.

“Or, is it that you like it a little too much? Hmm? Being my good boy?”

His skin flushed with heat as he glared at you. His eyes dark.

“What?” You bit your lip as you grinned. “A good boy would answer questions when asked.”

“Please.” He whispered.

“Please what?”

“Please stop. Marc’s taking the piss.”

You frowned, the playful tease dropping from your tone. “Why’s Marc taking the piss?” You’d done kinker stuff with all of them, Steven liking being called a ‘good boy’ wasn’t really something to write home about.

Steven sighed, pouting a little as he closed his eyes and took his hand away from his mouth. “Because I’ve got a hard on.”

You bit back the giggle that wanted to spill from your chest. Something about him having to close his eyes to say it was just so perfect. “So?”

“It happened the second you said it.”

“The very second?”

“Hmm.” Steven kept his eyes closed. Interesting.

“So literally, I said it, instant boner.”

“Yep.”

You couldn’t resist one playful tease. “So, if you’re in a park and you hear some say good boy to their dog, is it bam, erection?”

Steven shifted a little as you said those two words, trying his hardest not to moan. His cock was pressing, painfully hard, against the stiff material of his jeans. “No.”

“No?”

“It’s never happened before. And now- Marc, shut the fuck up.” His voice was a little needy until it came time to address his alter.

“Marc behave.” You said kindly. “So… it’s only ever happened now?”

“Hmm.”

“When I said it?”

“Yeah.”

“What happens when I say it again?” You whispered.

Steven squirmed a little, even the thought of you saying it getting him hot under the collar. “Feels… nice. Sort of.” He pushed at his throbbing cock with the heel of his hand and opened his eyes, his head slightly drooped.

“Sort of?”

“Yeah, like… you know, he jumps to attention every time you say it.” He blinked heavily, his cheeks burning. God, you must think he was a right little freak.

“Good boy.”

He groaned, unable to stop the sound in time and looked up at you. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t nice that you were making fun of him like Marc and… oh.

Realisation dawned. You were biting your lip and smiling. You liked it. A lot.

Steven swallowed audibly.

Slowly you stood and walked around the table to stand beside him. Steven pushed out his chair a little, angling it so that he was facing you. He went to stand but you gently pressed on his shoulder. He followed your command and stayed sitting down, looking up at you with pleading eyes.

He played at his jumper sleeve nervously as you watched him. His dick hard and pulsating with need, throbbing in time to his heartbeat.

He swallowed again. “Love-”

“Good boy.”

He moaned softly, screwing his face up as his cock twitched at your words.

You bent down quickly, grabbing hold of his cheeks and kissing him deeply. Using his brief surprise to slip your tongue into his mouth and push him back against the chair.

Steven whimpered against you, his hands coming up to hold your shoulders and the back of your neck as you ravaged his mouth and robbed him of his breath.

“Good boy.” You muttered between the kisses, swallowing his hushed whimpers and soft moans. Revelling in the way he pulled you tighter, needy and desperate for anything you’d give him.

You brushed your hand against his groin, squeezing the outline of his cock.

“Fuck!” Steven hissed, clawing at your top and thrusting up into your touch. The rest of his words were lost as you kissed him hard and lightly bit his bottom lip.

You trailed your lips down to his jaw and neck, sucking at his pulse point and pushing him even further back into the seat.

His breathy moans sent a wave of heat along your spine to your core, twisted in your belly and overwhelmed every thought.

You squeezed his cock again, the heat of him radiating through your hand. “Good boy.”

The words barely left your lip before Steven answered you with an accompanying groan, his length twitching against your palm.

You moaned, so dizzily high with the sounds of his pleasure. Without thinking you undo his belt and unzip his jeans, pulling his trousers and boxers down to his calves in a hurried motion with a little help from Steven as he raises his hips. His cock springs free, needy and weeping with need.

You take him in hand, stroking him twice before pulling his jumper over his head. He whines at the loss, chasing your mouth and kissing you urgently the second the material is off and on the floor.

With your lips desperately pressed to his you pull down your own trousers and underwear, kicking one leg free and not bothering about the other as you take his length back in your hand and straddle his thighs.

Him being so worked up, so desperate for you when you hadn’t even touched him is a stronger aphrodisiac that anything you’d ever experienced.

You don’t even give him a second to react before you’re lining him up with your already soaking entrance and slowly sinking down. “Such a good boy Steven,” you breathe, your voice rising in pitch at the end as he inches deeper, his thick cock splitting you so wide.

He moans headily, pressing his face into your chest and mouthing at the tops of your breast through your top.

“Love, you’re so wet.” He bites his bottom hip, his fingers pressing against your waist hard enough to leave bruises.

You pull at the back of his hair slightly, scratching your nails along his scalp as he finally bottoms out. He pulses within you, twitching and aching and so, so close already.

“You’re my good boy, aren’t you Steven?”

He whined against you as you rocked your hips, quickly starting to lift yourself up and sink back down, setting a brutal pace as you began to bounce on his cock.

“Such a good boy letting me use you like this.”

Steven moaned, chasing your hips and thrusting deep. He was drunk on you, needed you. Every moment, every word you said sent waves of pleasure through his body and made his head spin.

Even in his intoxicated state his muscle memory kicked in, bucking up into you perfectly to make you see stars. Each spot that would break you apart memorised and stored deep within his very soul.

He fucked up into you harder, growling with his desperate need. His leg kicked out and caught against the table's edge, rocking the chessboard and knocking pieces over.

The sound just loud enough to register in his mind. “Sorry, I-“

“Doesn’t matter Steven, please,” you moaned. At this angle the head of him constantly pressed so deep, rubbing consistently over that special spot and not even giving you a chance to breathe. No pause or reprieve from the oncoming onslaught of pleasure that threatened to overtake you.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum,” you whined, your thighs shaking and thrusts growing sloppy.

Steven growled, grabbing hold of your hips and pistoning upwards, not allowing your pleasure to dip. “Please, please, please, cum on my cock, please love, please. Tell me I’m your-”

“You’re my good boy.” You came dizzyingly hard, your fingers digging into Steven’s shoulders and leaving marks.

But he didn’t care. Couldn't care as you squeezed and fluttered around him, moaning ‘good boy’, and shaking as you fell apart in ecstasy.

Steven gasped, the air catching in his throat, the pleasure so potent it was like his heart stopped. He came deep, hot and thick, his hips still thrusting to prolong your high and to fuck his spend deeper into you.

You held each other tightly as you recovered, breathing hard, sweat sticking to your skin. It was only then that you pulled off your top and bra, discarding them on the floor with the rest of your clothing.

Steven nuzzled into you, softly kissing along your collarbone as you stroked his hair.

He chuckled suddenly and you moved back every so slightly to look him in the eyes.

“What?”

He grinned, dreamy and love sick, up at you. “Marc’s changed his mind. He’d quite like you to call him ‘good boy’ too.”

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

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lamprophonia · 1 year

Text

》 [ yandere!Jock. ] 《

masterlist.

yan!jock x gn!reader: introduction. 1273 words. reader referred to as 'you'. cw for general yandere behavior.

DO NOT USE OR REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE.

elijah steele is the best goddamn actor in your school.

the theatre kids could learn from him, honestly, because there is no way in hell anyone else could have convincingly pulled off what he did: pose as the nicest, most helpful and kind student in the entirety of the sorry shithole that is eastview high for four years straight.

to literally everyone, elijah is so sweet it's almost vomit inducing. the school's golden boy — smart, nice, strong. best player on the football team, co-captain of the swim team, and part of the basketball team for good measure, helpful, always cheery, and he got good grades.

even amongst his peers, he was always considered the most straight-edge one; still, he was pretty much universally liked. he was genuinely friends with everyone, never judging or turning anyone away.

what's not to love?

well, probably the fact that all of that is a lie, an ever on-going act. a carefully crafted persona, custom made to hide the fact elijah steele is a colossal prick.

it's honestly almost too easy for him. help teachers out here and there, talk to the right people, go to the right parties, and play on some teams, and boom, the entirety of eastview wrapped around your finger. he's made high school a game for himself, and he has been winning for four years straight.

elijah's obsession with you didn't kick in right away. he saw you and was... eh, rather neutral. he decided you were pretty enough, and homecoming or some other stupid dance he didn't actually care about was coming up, so he needed a date to look good. you were just a pawn, after all, no different from anyone else. an accessory — good-looking and non-threatening enough.

no, the obsession started when you rejected him.

worse than reject him: you saw through the finely crafted veil he's always putting on — through the smile that's as fake as it is charming, the tone of voice that's almost a bit too nice — you saw through it all, and didn't hesitate to let him know.

and oh.

it hurt.

with a few words and an unimpressed look, without even realizing it, you broke elijah's game. you weren't playing along. and hey, he might be a prick, but he's a prick with feelings. a lot of very conflicting feelings, as it turns out; he's dealt with rejection before, but never when it came to relationships.

he probably should have seen the hurt he felt when you rejected him as a sign of what was coming, that being the growing obsession he can practically feel developing. you made him feel something other than smug superiority and mild annoyance. it wasn't anything pleasant, sure, but it was new. the week after that little encounter of yours, you were literally the only thing he could think about.

at first, it was a mixed bag. elijah was confused, weirdly hurt — he discovered he didn't like feeling either of those much — and angry. mostly angry. that was the only emotion he was really familiar with of those three, so he thought he would be able to use it pretty easily. he does football after all, he'd just tackle whatever poor sods that were unfortunate enough to be going up against him in practice and get it all out of his system. easy, right?

it wasn't easy.

he nearly dislocated a guy's shoulder before realizing that his usual method for dealing with his feelings — channeling them into brute force — wasn't working, which only made him more confused, which in turn only made him angrier. so used to being in control, elijah didn't know what to do with himself for the first few days.

fortunately for him and the rest of the eastview football players, his anger, hurt, and confusion subsided after maybe a week and a half, giving way to another unfamiliar, but much more welcome emotion: fascination.

you still occupied his thoughts constantly, but he finally got a break from the all-consuming contempt he felt. instead, he regarded you with intrigue, a curiosity. it was then he decided he had to learn more; you were an obstacle, a challenge. another part of the game.

he just had to figure out how to beat you.

in some strange way, elijah was excited. this was going to be hard, sure, but his mind was already hard at work, and he was sure it would eventually be rewarding.

and hey, most importantly, this was new! his rage turned to pure goddamn delight at the idea of someone who finally isn't drooling all over him. it's so fun! like a specimen for him to study, aren't you, darling? finally, he has to work for someone's favour.

once elijah comes to this... decision? realization? he gets started pretty much immediately. he knows now that the overly sugarcoated golden boy persona isn't going to work for you. he's going to need a new strategy, and he's giddy to get to work on it.

with negative hesitation, he starts stalking you. honestly, he probably starts stalking you before he actually buckles down and starts trying to win you over; at some point in the bafflement that comes with you not immediately falling for him, he just starts to follow you around from a distance, almost absent-mindedly making notes on your schedule, your friends, class mates, teachers... he decides to double down after that, though, deciding that if he's serious about beating you, he's going to have to up his game.

that's when he starts actually following you home, taking note of your family and your behavior outside of school.

the second thing he starts doing is shadowing you outside of stalking. that meaning, he starts sitting with you at lunch, making friends with your friends, switches classes to have them with you, and joins your extracurriculars; and he does so with the most smug, shit-eating grin on his face.

he starts talking to you as if you were one of his friends, and even though you knew that elijah was probably less nice than he seemed at first glance, you didn't realize just how starkly different his real personality is from the persona he puts on.

elijah starts to treat you more genuinely, in a way. he talks shit about his friends to you, bitches freely about all his classes and coaches. it's a distinction that would feel sweet, if not for the cognitive dissonance that comes with watching him be all smiles with someone right after he told you he hates them.

because here's the thing — now that elijah knows you're not fooled by the overly sweet and helpful guy he pretends to be, that his polite golden boy act won't work on you like it does with everyone else; now, he can stop pretending.

it's freeing. hell, it's almost more fun that way.

he wants to win with all of his cards out on the table. every nice, kind he does to make you like him will be colored by that tension, that dissonance, that confusion.

of course, elijah would never admit it, but slowly, as he makes friends with you, his obsession with you turns romantic. his intrigue turns to sincere care and affection. he doesn't realize it until he sees someone flirting with you — or worse, you flirting with someone — and jealousy hits him like a fucking brick.

he's left to collect himself, once again feeling hurt, angry, and confused at his own thoughts. he didn't even like you. you were supposed to be just a game, a challenge, an obstacle.

what the fuck was happening?

#🏅 // e. steele #writing #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere oc

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arlana-likes-to-write · 6 months

Text

Lightning Bug - Chapter 29

Masterlist

Warning: small injury, mention of past abuse and self-doubt, more family fluff.

Word count: 3.8k

It seemed second nature for you to sit back and watch. You weren’t trying to be rude but liked understanding how everyone fit in a group. Then, you could see where you fit into it. Yelena hung on every word Alexei said, no matter how ridiculous. She would tease him and poke fun, but it was a side of Yelena you never saw, and she was surprised that it existed. Deep down, she was a little girl looking for her father’s love; you could relate. Now, with Melina, she was more hesitant to accept the older woman’s affection. You wondered what happened between the two to hurt their relationship. With the blonde here, Natasha was more willing to join in on family time. It felt like she was holding them both at arm’s length away. Similar to how you were when you first arrived at the tower, you were so scared to be hurt by those who promised they cared. You, Yelena, and Natasha weren’t as different as you thought. Kate and Wanda acted as the buffers. If a conversation took a wrong turn or Alexei made a joke that struck a nerve, they would pivot the conversation or touch their girlfriend to soothe the. You needed to figure out where you fit here.

“You are doing it again,” Yelena said, pushing a hot chocolate into your hands. Wanda was making them, and it was Yelena’s job to hand them out. You sipped the sugary drink instead of acknowledging her statement. “Why do you analyze everything like a game of chess?” You looked at her. She wasn’t being mean, just curious. You frowned, whipping your lip with a napkin.

“I don’t know,” your eyebrows scrunched together as you thought. Vision taught you that chess was always about being two to three steps ahead of your opponent. It was better to be ahead than trying to catch up. Every time you picked up a piece, your move was final; there were no do-overs. All the pieces flowed together, and a player couldn’t win without every piece. The pawn was just as important as the Queen or Rook. “I guess I like to see how everyone fits together; then I can find my spot.” Yelena smiled.

“I think you would make a good Avenger.”

“Me?” You questioned. “I don’t think I have what it takes to be an Avenger.” The blonde shrugged, leaning back on the wall. Her eyes were trained on the card game between Natasha, Alexei, and Kate.

“I thought the same thing when Natasha asked if I wanted to join the team. Sometimes, I still wonder if I’m good enough for it,” you watched her expression darken, but she shook it off. “We all have those questioning thoughts. Maybe that makes us good at what we do.” Natasha raised her hands in the air to celebrate her victory. “Come on. You are joining the next game.” You had little choice as you were pulled towards the table as the next game began.

“Ready?” Melina asked. You shook out your legs and stretched your arms. You nodded and heard the sound of the machine starting up. The older Black Widow wanted to test your reflexes, so you stood in the center of two machines hooked up to a switch that Melina held. They would shoot clay disks at you. All you had to do was doge them and use your powers to destroy them.

Back at the tower, when you trained with Maria, she helped you fall in love with using your powers again. Now, training with Melina made your stomach twist with anxiety. You wanted to perform well, impress her, and show her what you were capable of. So you pushed down the feeling and felt your powers dance at your fingertips.

The first two were easy; the clay pieces fell to the ground before they got to you. You heard the machines rave-up, and the disk started to come faster. Sweat began to drip down your back as you trained under the Russian sun. It was getting harder to stay on your feet as your legs turned to jello.

You dove to the ground, the disk skimming over your head. With the last bit of energy, you sent a stream of lightning and hit your target. The clay pieces fell to the ground. Rolling onto your back, you let out a heavy sigh. Your heart was beating so fast, you could hear it in your ears. You thought Maria’s training was brutal; you were pretty sure Melina was trying to kill you. “Better,” she said. “We’ll take a small break and go again.” You gave her a weak thumbs up and heard Yelena approach you.

“Get up,” she grunted as she pulled you up into a sitting position. Your body mainly was dead weight. “You need to give your lungs more room to expand and slowly drink this.” She handed you a water bottle.

“I think,” you slowly sipped on the water. “I think your mother’s trying to kill me.” Yelena laughed, looking at Melina, who was speaking with Wanda. They were too far away to hear what they were talking about.

“Putting you through this is her way of showing that she cares,” your mouth dropped in shock. You were mentally preparing for your funeral. “She wants to make sure you can protect yourself. You are her first vnucka.” You smiled.

“When are you and Kate going to add to the family?” The blonde’s cheeks burned bright red. You laughed, and she pushed you on the shoulder. There was no fight in your body, so you fell back to the ground. “Jerk,” you called out. Slowly, you sat up and stood up. You shook your legs out and jumped on your toes. Instead of anxiety filling your stomach, something else replaced it. You felt off. Jumping on your feet again, your ankle rolled, but you caught it before anything happened.

“All set?” Melina asked. You gave her a thumbs-up instead of answering and tossed the water bottle out of your way. The machines began to spin, and you let out a shaky breath.

You should have said no, called it off, and tried again later in the day. But you were stubborn, and you wanted to prove to yourself that you could do it. The first sets went well. You dogged the clay plates and destroyed them before they hit the ground. Until you plant your foot and your ankle gave out. Your body crumbled to the ground.

All of your life, you knew pain—the pain you inflicted on yourself. The bruises and scars your father left on you would stay with you forever. The pain during HYDRA was blinding. So when a pulsing pain erupted in your ankle, you knew something was wrong. Especially when your body crumbled in on itself and you fell to the ground. You faintly heard Yelena call out your name and rush to your side.

“What happened? Are you okay?” You nodded, stretching your legs out in front of you. Your right ankle felt throbbing. Melina joined you, kneeling next to you.

“My ankle gave out,” you admitted. “I don’t think I can continue your little course.” You joked, but Melina frowned.

“Do you want me to look at it?” Her hands went towards your foot, and you jerked your leg away. That was a mistake, and the pain traveled up your leg. You gripped the blades of grass between your fingers to stop yourself from crying out.

“No,” your voice shook. “No, I’m fine. Can you help me get back to my room?” You asked, looking at the blonde. She offered her hand, and you took it. You were pulled to your feet, and Yelena picked you up onto her back. You yelped and put your arms around her neck. “What are you doing?”

“Getting you into the house,” she adjusted her grip underneath your legs and began to walk. “Mama is right; you need to eat more.” You rolled your eyes and got used to the feeling of her carrying you like this. It was nice, and you rested your head on her shoulder.

“This is kind of nice,” you mumbled. “I may need more rides like this.” You moved from her laughter.

“Don’t make a habit of getting hurt,” Surprisingly, the house was empty when Yelena walked in, and she went towards the room you were using. She gently set you down, and you limped over to the bed. You felt her eyes watching you. “I’m going to have to tell Natasha.” You groaned but understood. “Don’t try to move it a lot and we’ll be right back.” You nodded as the blonde left.

You sat against the bed’s headboard and carefully removed your sock and shoe. The swelling was already starting, and a nice bruise was forming. You tried to move the joint but had to cover your mouth to stop the cry from slipping past your lips. This could have been better. Injuries meant punishments. You had to fix this quickly. With shaky hands, your fingers traced the bruise. A small surge passed your fingertips and hit the affected area. You jumped, surprised by the sudden display of power, but the pain wasn’t bad when your leg jerked. It was manageable. Curiously, you touched the bruised skin and concentrated your energy on that area. You only stopped when your ankle was back to the expected size, and the bruise was gone. You rolled your ankle without pain as if the injury had never happened. For one final test, you stood up and jumped up and down. Nothing. You slumped back on your bed. That was new. Your door opened, and Natasha came in looking frantic. “Hi,” you said.

“Hi?” Natasha asked. Yelena said you got hurt, and all I get is a hi.” You shrugged.

“I’m fine,” she gave you a pointed look. “I am. Look!” You circled around until Natasha forced you to stop and sit back down. She put your ankle in her lap.

“Yelena and Melina said you could barely pressure it,” you bite your lip. I know you wouldn’t fake an injury to get out of training, so what happened?” Natasha was safe. She was caring, protective, and loving. She wasn’t like your father or those HYDRA goons who hurt you for being hurt.

“I think I sprained my ankle,” you told her. She looked at you to continue. You sighed. “But I’m fine now because I healed it.” She slowly looked up, blinking a few times at you. You saw her brain trying to make sense of what you said.

“You did what?” You pulled your leg off her lap and began to put your sock and shoe back on.

“I was touching my ankle when I accidentally shocked myself, but it helped the pain, so I kept doing it until the swelling went down,” you tied your shoe and rolled your ankle again. “See! All good!” You expected to see that she was proud or happy on Natasha’s face, but she looked worried. “What’s wrong? This is so cool! I wish I knew how to do this when I was younger; it would have saved me a few extra bruises.” Gently, she took your hand.

“It is very cool,” you said, sensing a but. Why were you sensing a but? “But Melina said you flinched when she tried to help you.” Ah, there it was. “Do you want to talk about that?” You shrugged, flipping her hand over to trace the lines on her palm. “Come on, molniyenosnyy zhuk (lightning bug), I can’t help if I don’t know what’s going through your head.”

“Not much to tell,” you said. “Injuries of any kind were frowned upon at HYDRA, and with my-” you stopped yourself. “With Johnathan. It wasn’t good enough if I couldn’t perform at my best, and I was punished.” Natasha tapped on your knee, and you looked at her.

“Can I give you a hug?” You nodded, and she wrapped her arms around you. Your head rested on her chest. “When I was in the Red Room,” she spoke softly and ran her fingers through your hair. “I dislocated my shoulder during a mission. I completed it, but I wasn’t perfect. I went three days without food, and they doubled my training.” You pulled back to look at her. “No one will ever hurt you because you got hurt. Injuries are common in this line of work,” you nodded and leaned against her.

“I’m sorry the world was so cruel to you,” you felt her lips brush against the top of your head.

“I’m sorry too,” she whispered. “But the world can’t hurt you anymore.”

Natasha found Wanda in the living room, drinking tea and reading a book. “Hey, how is she?” She closed the book. “What’s wrong? Does she need to go to the hospital?” Natasha shook her head.

“Can we talk in our room? It’s important.” Wanda placed her book on the table and took her girlfriend’s hand as Natasha led them to the room they used when they visited. It had personal details that Melina had kept up - pictures on the walls and extra clothes in the closet. Natasha sat on the bed. “She said she sprained her ankle, but it was fine when I checked on it. No bruising or swelling,” The witch nodded slowly, waiting for the Black Widow to continue. “She said she healed it. That she used her powers until the swelling went down.” Wanda’s eyes went wide. Natasha thought they were going to fall out of her head.

“That is—” she paused, seemingly at a loss for words. It’s different, but we shouldn’t panic,” she sat down next to the Black Widow. This could be happening because she is getting stronger.” Now Natasha was on her feet.

“You are the one that came to me when her powers changed during training. Her powers are preparing her for something, which could be what Vision warned you about.”

“What did Vision say?” Natasha turned around to see Yelena. The blonde had her arms crossed and her eyebrows raised in question. A part of Natasha wanted to lie to her sister because the more people that knew, the more real it would feel. On the other hand, Yelena could help them. With a sigh, Natasha grabbed her sister’s hand, pulled her into the room, and closed the door. “Can you not do that?” Yelena deadpanned and sat next to Wanda on their bed.

“What we tell you can’t leave this room,” Yelena slowly nodded and looked between the couple.

“Should I be worried? Do we have another Thanos coming?” She smiled. Natasha was grateful for the joke to try breaking the tension but couldn’t bring it in her to laugh. So Wanda began to tell Yelena everything they knew, which was a little. Natasha watched the smile on her sister’s face fall. Once the witch was done, Yelena stood up suddenly. Her hands tangled within her blonde hair. “That glorified toaster oven let her touch the fucking infinity stone,” the redhead snorted at the name-calling towards the android but covered it with a cough from the flare she received from her girlfriend.

“We know it was a bad choice,” Wanda ran her hands through her hair and rested them on her neck. “We can’t change the pass.”

“I can complain about it,” Yelena mumbled.

“What can we do,” Wanda ignored Yelena’s comment and continued, “is figure out how to keep her safe moving forward.” The blonde rested her hand on her chin.

“She’s the safest with us,” she said. “As long as we keep her in the tower or one of us goes with her, nothing can touch her.” That was true, but Natasha hated the idea of limiting your choices over something they had no idea was coming. It wasn’t enjoyable. “Have you thought about telling her the truth?”

“What is there to tell her?” Natasha questioned. “Oh, remember when you touched the mind stone, well, we think something is coming after you, and we think your powers are preparing you for it. But,” the redhead flipped on her back on the bed. “We have no idea if any of this is true. Sounds like a great fucking idea.” She felt a slap on her thigh from her sister.

“Don’t be a dick. I’m trying to help here,” Wanda raised her hands to stop the fight between the sisters.

“Once we get back to the tower, we will find some answers and tell her everything.” The sisters nodded in agreement. Natasha hated this, this feeling of uncertainty that swirled in her stomach. For right now, her daughter was safe.

“Good,” Kate said, touching your stomach and lower back. “Remember to engage your core and lower your shoulders.” You nodded. When she removed her hands from your body, you took a steady breath and fired the arrow. It hit the target, not the bullseye you aimed at, but at least you hit something. “That was a great shot! Get ready to do it again.” You shot two more arrows at the target, focusing on grouping them. “Not bad. A few more training sessions, and you’ll be better than me,” you laughed as you walked over to the target to retrieve the arrows. “You know,” Kate pulled out an arrow. “America was pretty jealous when she found out we were coming to see you,” you smiled, pitting your lip. “She was going to come, but Stephen needed her.” You nodded, getting in your stance.

But you couldn’t focus because Kate was looking at you, waiting to see your reaction. “Why are you looking at me like that?” You knotted the arrow and aimed it at the target.

“You and America almost kissed in Macey’s changing room, right?” You completely missed the target at her blunt question but nodded. “But you didn’t. Are you okay with that?” You aimed your second arrow and, this time, hit the target.

“I think I wanted to kiss her, but that scares me,” you said. You aimed the last arrow, but Kate put her hand on your shoulder. You dropped your stance and sat on the ground. Kate sat next to you.

“Why does that scare you?” You moved your hand through the grass instead of answering her. “Come on, bud,” she hit your shoulder against hers. “You can tell me.” You pulled the grass out and let the blades go in the wind.

“America would be my first kiss, first partner, first everything, and that scares me,” you admitted. You shook your head, pulled your knees to your chest, and rested your chin on top of them. “I don’t want to hurt her or get hurt. I don’t know what I’m doing.” Kate sighed, and you looked at her.

“I don’t think any of us know what we are doing when it comes to liking someone,” Yelena said something similar to you about being an Avenger. “We just have to trust ourselves and the person we give our heart to. Sometimes, it works in our favor, and sometimes, it doesn’t.”

“How many times have you gotten your heart broken before finding Yelena?” Kate smiled, laughing with a shake of her head.

“Too many to count, but you learn much about yourself when someone breaks your heart. But between you and me, I don’t think you have to worry about America breaking your heart.” You chuckled and shook your head. Standing up, you picked up the bow and retook your stance. Kate was right. America wouldn’t break your heart. You had very personal experience with dating but you’ve read a lot. The way authors described love and having a crush, you saw it in how America looked at you. However, you were scared of breaking her heart.

Melina brushed your hair as you read over your math and science homework. If you had a question or didn’t understand something, you would raise the book to her, and she would help you through it. “You are brilliant.”

“Do you think so?” You questioned. She hummed in agreement.

“I do, and I’m no lair,” she said. Do you know what you want to do when you are older?” The question stumped you. It was something you never thought about, and you could never give yourself hope that you could achieve something.

“I don’t know,” you whispered. “Never thought I’d reach the age to decide on a career.” You felt her hand stutter in your hair.

“Whatever you decide, I know you’ll do great things.”

“I found it!” Alexei proclaimed suddenly with a cassette tape in hand. He pushed it into a radio they heard, and soon, American Pie started to play. The super soldier danced towards Yelena.

“Do not touch me,” she warned. “Or I will chop off your hands.” But that did not deter the man; he pulled her up and danced around the living room. Her hardened expression began to soften, and her laughter danced off the walls. Kate quickly stood up and pulled Wanda to the makeshift dance floor. Your eyes locked onto Natasha’s, and a smirk formed on her face. ‘No,’ you mouthed. That made the Black Widow more determined; she closed the distance and pulled you out of her mother’s lap.

Your instinct was to pull your arm out of Natasha’s hold on you and run, but you allowed her to try to move you to the music. “I forgot I’m raising a moody teenager,” you pouted. Natasha spun you, and somehow, Wanda had her hands on your arms.

“Teenage angst, right, sweetheart.” You recognized that she spoke Sokovian, but you weren’t sure what she called you. You asked her to speak her native language around you more so you could try to learn it. “Isn’t that what they are calling it?” You rolled your eyes.

“I don’t have teenage angst.” It was Wanda’s turn to spin you, and Kate took the witch’s place.

“Then dance with your family!” The archer laughed. You huffed but began to dance. The feeling of embarrassment washed away, and you laughed with everyone. The dancing continued even when American Pie ended, and the next song started. You saw Melina still sitting in the same spot, with a fond smile as she observed the scene. With a smile, you skipped over to her.

“No.” You ignored her, grabbed her hand, and pulled her to her feet, bringing her to the dance floor in a similar fashion to Natasha.

“Come on, babushka (grandma), dance with your family,” Melina glared at you, but when Alexei came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, she melted against him and swayed to the music.

Family. This was your family. Oh, how lucky you were.

taglist: @aestruvx, @toouncreativeforausername, @modedddd, @julilamoment, @mythixmagic, @yourmamacom, @vicmc624, @cherlenovix, @liliesandrosies, @whitewidowsbite, @clintsbigtoe, @blackbirdv98 @arualdcg@yoyo-w @natbelovasblog, @johnnyhulu, @blackwidow-3, @theenglishswiftie, @faith-olsen

#lightning bug #wandanat x you #wandanat x daughter!reader #wandanat x reader #wandanat #natasha romanoff x wanda maximoff

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fairyhaos · 1 year

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seventeen and monopoly

how seventeen would play monopoly w/ each other

notes: im woozi. every single game i play, i always end up being woozi.

masterlist

seungcheol:

most competitive when it comes to monopoly. calls out jeonghan's cheating whenever possible, can never figure out how or when shua cheats, but is also totally down to cheating himself to win. has once engaged poor dokyeom in a bid for a train station that he raised way too high before suddenly pulling out, leaving dokyeom with -769 when he originally had 980. poor thing looked at his leader with the utmost betrayal in his eyes for over a week. also has totally owned almost the whole board before, calls it one of his biggest achievements in life

jeonghan:

the Biggest cheater (1). steals everyone's 50s when they're not looking. somehow manages to empty the bank of all the 500s, even though dino's been watching it like a hawk the entire time. has also definitely upturned the board during a game when it wasn't going the way he wanted, and has also definitely been nearly strangled by seungkwan because of it. asks if he can do aegyo or offers to do a dare instead of paying rent when he lands on someone's property, succeeds in making a deal 50% of the time

joshua:

the Biggest cheater (2). takes the little hotel buildings and puts them over properties that he doesn't even own, demands that people pay him anyway. has mastered the skill of looking all innocent while lying through his teeth and pinning the blame on a totally different member (jihoon or mingyu). gets extremely competitive when it looks like he has the slightest chance of winning and starts bending the rules like crazy, but if he's losing then he loses interest really quickly and gives up all his money and property to whoever looks like they're most likely to drop out any second

junhui:

makes up rules that sound really weird but also really plausible so the members don't know if they should trust him or not. has managed to convince mingyu that landing on the jail square when you roll means that you're in jail permanently unless you let the other players give you a dare to do. is somehow also passing Go every other turn of his. never wins, but never loses either: is always one of the last players still playing the game

hoshi:

attempts to be a cheater, is terrible at it. wants to win so badly, but he has such bad luck that he always lands on other people's properties and has to pay up. once spent the majority of the game in jail, bc he kept paying to get out only to end up back in there again, and didn't have money left to bail himself out or the 'get out of jail free' card. was the most upset when he had to play using a pawn from a chess set they had lying around somewhere (monopoly never comes with enough pieces for all 13 of them to play. weird, right? you'd think they'd make 13 pieces) and complained that even being the hat would be better than this. was then hit on the head by seungkwan, who was playing with the hat piece

wonwoo:

before they start playing he's constantly preaching that monopoly is basically based on luck and luck alone but as soon as it looks even the littlest like he's winning, he's telling them that monopoly is all about strategizing and budgeting and really the members could learn a thing or two from him—. only plays if he's in the mood to deal with all of their yelling tho, n normally says no thanks to the game when offered

woozi:

loses the most terribly all the time. 70% of the time, is the first one to give up on the game bc he's basically 100,000,000 in debt and he doesn't even know why. gets so angry this one time that he steals all of mingyu's money bc the dumb fool was stupid enough not to take it with him when he went to the bathroom. ended up losing all of it before mingyu even came back from peeing. tells them after every game that he'll never play monopoly with them ever, always ends up joining in the next time someone busts it out during game night

minghao:

always starts the game looking like -__- but as the game goes on and he keeps on gaining money, he slowly gets more and more excited and soon he's giggling every other minute bc people keep landing on his properties or he keeps getting good chance cards. the fates love him. has never gone into debt before. was so close to winning that one time that jeonghan flipped the playing board, wouldn't talk to him for five whole days after that. once owned both of the 'get out of jail free' cards in one round, refused to give them out to the people in jail unless they promised to do him any favour he asked for

mingyu:

never loses, but still loses. had jihoon steal all his money from him when he needed the bathroom one time, and came back to find out he'd pathetically lost it all. somehow always ends up playing the ship. doesn't know why he needs to mortgage his property, or how he even does it. asks the bank for loans, and chan refuses, saying he won't give him a loan unless he does aegyo. ends up still not getting the loan. has knocked over people's houses dozens of times while moving his ship round the board. ends up dropping out of the game halfway through bc jihan keep cheating too much for him to keep up and besides, seungcheol owns half the board and he doesn't even have any money left :(

dokyeom:

managed to almost win out of pure luck one time. has no idea what he's doing, asks his hyungs for help on every go. wants jeonghan to give him advice on whether he should buy a property or not: jeonghan either advises him genuinely or says the complete opposite of what would benefit dokyeom, depending on how he feels at that moment. has lost all his money bidding for a property before. finds it super unfair when jihan cheat him, starts whining and pouting so badly and throws his cards down in frustration. rarely sticks around till the end of the game, giving up and just watching the others battle it out across the board

seungkwan:

competitive. could almost be as competitive as seungcheol, but since he's competitive about every game they play it kind of cancels out so he's placed under him. fights any member who so much as looks at the dog piece, because that is his thank you very much. spent the entire game in a foul mood one time when he lost the dog piece to joshua. always ends up throwing something at someone during the game. never lasts until the end, throws his money in the air in exasperation and dramatically flings himself down onto the couch to watch the rest of them fight over the game

vernon:

monopoly is one of the few things that vernon can get truly competitive at. loves yelling at jeonghan every time he cheats, has also had to dodge flying pawns before as seungkwan threw them at him in anger when he landed on his ridiculously expensive property. always owns only a few streets, but manages to upgrade them so high that he's raking in money if ever anyone lands on them. almost lasted a whole game one time, before hoshi physically wrestled his cards out of his hands. he still doesn't know why he did that, or even why he let his hyung do that.

chan:

is the banker. knows that he's terrible at games involving money, especially if it's against yoon jeonghan, so decides, for his sanity and his mental health, he'll never play a monopoly game against him. is also a great banker, apart from the times that money mysteriously disappears from the box. likes to sit back and enjoy the chaos that happens, knowing full well that their entire game could descend into even further catastrophe if he decided to withdraw the bank from them.

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reactions tags: @jeonghanis ,, @magicaltonaru ,, @milkbreadnotmilkcoffee ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @minhui896 ,, @turningcarat ,, @nakedgrapes ,, @bunnyiix ,, @slytherinshua ,, @haowrld ,, @belladaises ,, @iheartyujin ,, @summery-bat ,, @newgirlygirl ,, @moonlitskiiies ,, @interludezjk ,, @ejspencer14 ,, @cinnamoroxie ,, @wonranghaeee ,, @saythename-chess ,, @yonabutnotyuna ,, @youthoughtiwasfeelingyou ,, @crackedpumpkin ,, @wqnwoos ,, @butiluvu ,, @sunshinekyeom-sang ,, @ocyeanicc ,, @uramarica ,, @zozojella ,, @thesmellofcoffeeandrain ,, @kthstrawberryshortcake-main ,, @kawennote09 ,, @a-wandering-stay

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goldenseresinretriever · 2 months

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False Confidence: Chapter 5

Pairing: Javy “Coyote” Machado x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: The Athletic named Javy Machado the fifth sluttiest player in the NHL last year. He’s a known playboy who leaves every game with a different girl. As far as he’s concerned he’s living the dream, playing his dream job with the dream lifestyle. Unfortunately his friends and bosses don’t agree. At 33, they think it’s time for him to settle down. You’re a kindergarten teacher at an esteemed private school. You don't expect much when you finally accept your colleague’s invitation to attend her husband’s hockey game but when you accidentally get separated in the post-game rush, you find yourself in a compromising situation with the last person you’d ever expected to meet. When his PR rep suggests a mutually beneficial agreement, your hands are tied. How long will you have to keep up the act? And how long will you be able to?

Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, angst, fluff, fake relationship, suggestive language, anxiety, panic attack, blood, school system inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies etc. There will be individual chapter warnings. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 7.5k

A/N: I’ve been so excited to share this one, I may have gotten a wee bit carried away, though

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

You try not to make your displeasure obvious as you scowl at your reflection in the full-length mirror; fighting the urge to tug at the neckline of the black dress currently hugging every inch of your body. “This is too much, it has to be.” You complain and Josie gives you a sharp look from where she’s smoothing the bottom of the dress.

“Oh sweetie, if you think this is too much, they’re going to eat you alive.”

“They?”

“Javy’s little fan club,” she says, giving you a knowing look before grimacing. You match the gesture, trying once again to reconcile with your reflection in the mirror. You don’t look like yourself. That much is clear. Your hair is down and Josie’s pinned back sections in some style that she promises will flatter your face but you don’t quite see it. You fight another grimace as you glance at your chest. The dress is low cut, perhaps not enough to be truly risqué but you tend to favor higher, more modest necklines. Still, you’ve never had your breasts on display like this and it takes all your self-control not to cover your chest. You remind yourself that you’re not you tonight. Tonight you’re a pawn in a game, a commodity that’s being traded in exchange for keeping your job. You take a shaky breath as you glance at your painted face. It’s caked in makeup much thicker than you normally wear. Your lips are painted a sinful ruby red that makes you feel more dirty than beautiful. Your nails are painted to match and you grip your wrist tightly to keep from picking at the fresh paint.

“Hey,” you’re torn from your self-scrutiny by Josie and she’s looking at you, concerned. “Roadie, are you okay?” Her voice is a lot softer and you’re about to ask why she’s so concerned when you catch the sparkle of unshed tears in your eyes in the mirror. You swallow hard, willing them away before they ruin your makeup that Josie’s worked so hard on. You nod, not trusting your voice as you feel a lump form in your throat. “Hey, hey it’s okay,” Josie stands up then and pulls you into a hug. “I know it’s hard, sweetie, I know.” She rubs soothing circles into your back as you tremble in her arms before she speaks up, voice thick with regret. “I hate that you’re so unhappy. I’m so sorry I even suggested this.” You shake your head against her shoulder.

“I-it was my choice. You didn’t force me to do anything.” You take a shaking breath and hate how wet it feels as you feel a pressure in your nose as the tears rise unbidden to your eyes again. You squeeze your eyes shut to keep them in and picture your class. Your students that you love so much. This is for them. You can do this. “I can do this.” You say and while your voice still shakes you feel Josie squeeze you in solidarity.

She pulls back to look at you, a sad smile on her face. “Tell you what? Get through this and we’ll have a girls' night this weekend. Just stay in, hang out on the couch, and watch a movie in our pajamas.” You give her a weak smile at the thought of that. You’d do anything to be in your pajamas right now. You heave a sigh, avoiding your reflection in the mirror as you head for the door.

***

You regret everything. Sure, the dress makes you feel exposed. Sure, the makeup makes you feel cheap. But none of those are even close to the horror show that’s proving to be these heels. You wobble across the lobby of Javy’s apartment building, terror keeping you in its clutches as you stumble to the nearest chair. You dig your freshly manicured into the back, struggling to rearrange your ankles into an upright position.

“Roadie?” You look up from where you’re glaring holes into the back of the chair to see Javy staring at you with concern. You give him a lopsided smile as you do your best to right yourself. “You look beautiful,” he says and you feel your cheeks heat at the offhand compliment as you try to wipe your sweaty palms off on the dress that’s not an absorbent material at all. You straighten to the best of your ability and head towards him, shoes forgotten and the sudden movement combined with the deathtraps on your feet immediately throws you off balance and you stumble with a squeak of surprise. Warm hands wrap around your bare arms, righting you and you find yourself face to face with warm brown eyes as you instinctively brace your hands against Javy’s broad chest. Your lips are barely a breath away from his and his eyes are as wide as yours. You feel his body heat radiating off his skin and warming you to your very bones.

“Hi,” you breathe the words against his mouth and you’re not sure if you hallucinate the way his gaze flicks to your full red lips, parted in surprise.

“Hi,” he breathes back and you swallow, sucking in the air he’s released like it’s a lifeline, the only thing keeping you upright. You’re instantly aware of his hands on your arms and you stumble backward, his hands not moving an inch as you feel them strain against you as he carefully helps you balance on your heels. You glare down at the traitorous footwear and you hear Javy chuckle softly and it coaxes your gaze to his. He squeezes your arms in his grip gently, a playful smile on his lips even as his eyes betray his concern. “Meep, what on earth are you doing in those shoes?” You scowl at him even as your heart hammers against your ribs.

“Josie insisted on them,” you grumble before muttering under your breath, “even if I can’t walk five steps in them.”

“Does Josie have some vested interest in you spraining an ankle that I should know about?” He asks as he loosens his grip on you, hands still hovering above your skin in case he needs to intervene again. You realize then that your hands are fisted in the silky fabric of his dress shirt and you loosen them, cheeks heating as you tentatively release the material, shifting your weight back to your feet.

“Not that I know of, but I can ask,” you answer, rambling as you focus on staying upright. Your legs wobble like a baby deer and Javy regards you thoughtfully before he shifts, removing his hands from your arms before offering you one of his.

“Here, hold onto me, I’ll help keep you balanced.” You hesitate before linking your arm with his and he pulls you close, tucking you into his side and practically holding you up against him.

“Oh,” you whisper in surprise and he chuckles at your reaction.

“I’ve got you, Roadie.” He says and you’re surprised to find that you believe him. You let him lead you across the lobby and you find that your legs don’t shake nearly as much with him to support you.

When you get to the doors an attendant is waiting with a fancy sports car idling in the drive. Javy takes the keys from him and you try your best to ignore the way his gaze brazenly moves over you, his eyes feeling almost greasy in the way they linger on various parts of your body. You feel dirty and you haven’t even done anything. Nausea churns your stomach and you’re struggling to fight it down when Javy’s firm voice cuts through your thoughts. “Jonathan, if you don’t get your filthy eyes off my girlfriend, I know plenty of people that would kill for your job.” His voice is full of barely-concealed rage but it doesn’t frighten you. You feel gratitude fill your veins as Jonathan sputters, face going crimson as he averts his gaze, chagrined. He murmurs a half-hearted apology to Javy but Javy shakes his head. “Don’t apologize to me, apologize to her.” He dips his chin towards you.

Jonathan’s face somehow manages to go even more red as he turns to face you, gaze darting everywhere but your face. “I’m so sorry, ma’am. It won’t happen again.” You’re too shaken to do more than nod in acknowledgment and then Javy’s leading you around to the passenger side of the sleek black sports car. He helps you in before going back around to the driver's seat.

The two of you fall silent as he pulls out of the driveway of the apartment building and you shift in the low seat of the sports car. Javy’s grip on the wheel is as firm as the line that his lips are pressed in. You’re rearranging the unfamiliar fabric of your dress when you unconsciously give into your earlier temptation to tug at the neckline of your dress, willing the fabric to magically stretch to cover the exposed skin at the top of your chest that makes your stomach twist in knots. When the car stops at a red light, Javy slides his suit jacket off and then tosses it gently into your lap and you blink at him, surprised. He doesn’t take his eyes off the road but you guess he feels the weight of your stare.

“You can cover up if you want to.” He explains and you feel your cheeks heat in embarrassment. You take the jacket and fight the shame warring with your discomfort as you slide the jacket over your shoulders. It’s big, fair enough considering how broad Javy’s shoulders are but that’s lost on you as you’re suddenly enveloped by the heady scent of his cologne. The sharp, spicy notes cut through the musk and tickle your nose.

“Doesn’t this ruin the whole point of the dress?” You say after what you’re sure has been way too long as you come back to your senses.

Javy’s brow furrows, his fingers tightening on the wheel, angry at something you can’t see. “I would argue it sells the whole ruse even more. There’s nothing more intimate than my girl wearing my jacket.” You suppress the need to point out that you’re sure that there are plenty of things more intimate than that but you suppose he’s right and you do feel more comfortable now that you’re safely covered by the fabric.

***

Javy has half a mind to throttle Josie Fitch the next time he sees her. He sneaks a look at you when he stops at the next light. You seem content in the silence that stretches between the two of you and if he’s honest it’s the most relaxed that he’s seen you all day and he selfishly wants to let that last as long as possible. What was Josie thinking dressing you up like that? Sure, you look beautiful. He tries not to think too hard about the way you’d knocked the breath clear from his lungs when he first saw you in the lobby. There’s nothing indecent about the dress, it’s elegant and perfect for the restaurant he’s picked out for tonight. It hugs your curves perfectly, and he can’t help but feel his mouth go dry at the memory of the way the neckline accentuates your breasts, teasing him with just the skin at the tops and a peek at your cleavage. Your makeup just serves to underscore your natural beauty but the bold red lip is a little much.

None of that matters, though, when he can see how clearly uncomfortable you are. You look like an innocent lamb trussed up for slaughter. It makes rage run cold through his veins. The point of dressing up like this should be to bolster your confidence not tear it to shreds and his heart clenches as he sees you squirm, uncomfortable in your own skin. You’re naturally skittish and nervous but this is different. Even when you’ve picked at the hem of your blouses or dresses in the past it was more of a nervous tick, a side effect of being forced to exist. This is different. What was Josie thinking, suggesting this? He manages to fight down his anger, not wanting it to seep into his words for you to misconstrue before he speaks.

“Roadie,” he says, choosing his words carefully, and out of the corner of his eye he sees you turn to him. “I think you should get some new dresses. Some that YOU’RE comfortable in.” He chances a glance at you and you're staring at him, perfect lips parted in soft surprise that matches your wide eyes. He fights the urge to smile. It’s his favorite look on you and it makes him want to pull the car over and kiss it off you. The car behind him honks, jolting him back to the present and he collects his thoughts. “Nat could go with you if you want? She’s been hounding me about getting to spend some time with you. I promise you she’s not pushy.” You’re silent for a moment before you finally speak up.

“That would be nice,” he hears you hesitate and waits patiently for you to continue. “Are you sure it’s okay?” He’s about to ask you to clarify but you continue. “I mean aren’t I supposed to dress a certain way?” He feels his stomach twist with rage and disgust.

“Meep, you never have to do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable.” He fights to keep his voice even. “You’re my fake girlfriend, not a doll.”

***

You wonder if you’re imagining the way Javy is vehemently defending your sense of comfort. All that disappears, though, when the words “fake girlfriend” pass his lips. It’s like he’s doused you with a bucket of ice water. You stiffen as you remember why you’re really here. Javy sweetness mixed with the headiness from being ensconced in his jacket and scent almost had you forgetting that this is just an elaborate act. When you get to the restaurant there’ll be a crowd of reporters that Zam sent anonymous tips, waiting to capture exclusive photos of you and Javy. You’re just here to play a part. You have to smile, pretend to hide from the cameras, and seem absolutely completely in love with Javy Machado. All in a good night’s work, right?

You realize that Javy’s waiting for you to answer but the moment is broken and you’re back down in reality. You heave a heavy sigh. “As nice as that is, I can’t exactly afford to get a whole new wardrobe right now, especially the kind of clothes I need for these sorts of events.” You’re on a teacher’s salary after all, and you spend any extra money on your art.

Javy doesn’t miss a beat. “That’s fair, I’ll pay for them.” Your jaw drops and your eyes bug out of your head. “Call it a part of the agreement. It’s not your fault that your demands don’t come with a dress code so I’ll take care of the clothes and whatever else you need. I’ll give Nat my credit card.”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” you stammer, still wrapping your head around his cavalier attitude towards this whole situation.

“You didn’t. I offered.”

“Well, I don’t accept!” You squawk indignantly.

“I wasn’t asking, Beautiful.” Your argument is cut short as Javy pulls up to the valet booth of the restaurant and you glance out the window at the soft mood lighting glinting out the windows of the impressive-looking building.

He folds himself out of the car that’s honestly too small for a hockey player but you have a feeling size didn’t factor much into the purchasing decision. Your door clicks open and Javy holds out his hand to you. You make sure to swing your legs out first and plant them firmly before you give Javy your hand and let him pull you to your feet. He links your arm in his immediately, steadying you as he guides you around the car. His body is shielding yours at first so you don’t notice them but then the flashing of lenses almost blinds you as the press that’s been camped waiting for the two of you start to cross the small space to the door of the restaurant. You curl instinctively away from the cameras and into Javy and he just pulls you close. You almost miss the quick tap of his fingers against your wrist before he presses his lips to the top of your head. You feel warmth spread through your body from the point of contact and you suppress a shudder.

Javy doesn’t seem keen on pandering to the press beyond your presence and the chaste kiss and he ushers you through the door of the restaurant. The inside is warm and elegant and you’re suddenly glad that you’re dressed like you are. The hostess guides the two of you across the dining room and Javy politely asks that she not seat the two of you by any windows and you feel a rush of gratitude at his thoughtfulness even if it feels counterproductive to the goal of the night. Javy pulls out your chair for you and you take a seat, pulling Javy’s jacket tighter around your shoulders in the cool air of the restaurant. You busy yourself with the money to distract from the nerves gnawing at your stomach.

“It’s just dinner.” You look up when Javy speaks up. He’s gazing at you over the top of his menu. “Just think about it that way. It’s just dinner. I’m not asking you to sit in my lap and feed me chocolate cake. We’re just two people getting dinner.” Despite your skepticism, you can feel Javy’s voice somehow easing your anxiety. “Oh but I do have one request," he says and you flick your eyes back up to his, a question hidden in them and he gives you a firm look. “Order whatever you want. There’s no one in here that you have to prove anything to.” You feel your cheeks heat and you’re saved from having to answer by a waitress coming to take your drink order. Javy greets her before turning back to you. “What kind of wine do you like? Or do you prefer cocktails?”

You squirm uncomfortably as you ponder the words you need to say. Glancing at the prices on the drink menu solidifies your resolve, however. “I, uh, I don’t drink.” You murmur, not taking your eyes off Javy as you manage to get the words out. To his credit, Javy just nods before ordering water for both of you. “You didn’t have to do that,” you blurt once the waitress has made her way back to the kitchen. “I don’t mind if you drink, you don’t have to have water for my sake.” Javy just arches an eyebrow at you as he arranges his napkin in his lap.

“Meep, I’m driving. I wasn’t planning to drink.” You feel your cheeks heat.

“Oh, right.” You stammer lamely and he gives you a soft smile.

“But thanks for letting me know you don’t drink.” He says and you cock your head to the side, confused. “I wouldn’t want to accidentally make you uncomfortable by ordering you something you’re not going to be comfortable drinking.”

“Well that and it definitely saves money.” You remark before your cheeks heat more as you realize the man across from you is in a completely different tax bracket than you. “Sorry, I just, uh, I forgot.”

Javy gives you a casual shrug. “I wasn’t born into this, Beautiful, believe it or not, I do remember what money means.”

“Oh,” you stammer, embarrassed all over again.

“After my first year in the NHL, I bought my mom a new house,” he says and the smile on his face is wistful and you can see he’s lost in the memory. “She gave up a lot for me to be able to play hockey. It’s an expensive sport that we didn’t necessarily have the money to be able to afford, but she found a way to make it work. I wanted to be able to thank her for that. It’s not always the case with sports, you know? That the investment pays off. I just got lucky enough that I got to go from being the most expensive kid in my family to being the one who can take care of everyone else. It feels good, like it wasn’t all for nothing, you know?” You nod along, content to listen to Javy talk. Everything he’s saying feels genuine and you can’t help the curiosity that tickles your brain.

“You said you’re from Louisiana, right?” Javy nods. “How’d you start playing hockey then?” He chuckles at that.

“Hockey’s not the most welcome sport in Louisiana, that’s true. There’s only one minor league that’s still holding on these days, but back when I was growing up there were a few and my uncle took me and my sisters to a game once when we visited him for the weekend. I fell in love with the sport instantly, much to my mom’s disappointment. My uncle, though, saw how excited I was about it so he started to take me to the mall to skate and then he found local rinks that had open skates, and he kept taking me to games. He would go to the library and read books and watch old games to try to figure out how he could train me without having to pay for lessons. I guess it worked because then he helped my mom get me into a tryout for some fancy middle school that had a hockey team and I got in on a hockey scholarship. Once I had my foot in the door I didn’t want to lose my chance. Thankfully I was able to use gear provided by the school for a while but once I got to high school I got odd jobs so I could afford the gear I needed to play. All the other guys on my team all had second rec leagues that they played for outside school on top of the school teams but that’s all I had so I put all my effort in there, hoping I’d get scouted to play in college. I got a scouting offer from the University of Arizona my senior year of high school and ended up going there on a full-ride and now I’m here.” He shakes his head, “I wouldn’t be able to do any of this without my mom and uncle. I’ll always be thankful for what they did for me.”

“You’re still close with them, then?” You ask and his expression clouds. “My uncle passed away from cancer when I was in college. He never married, never had kids of his own.”

“Javy, I'm so sorry.” You swallow hard, but you’re interrupted by the waitress coming back to take your orders. You take a long sip of your water while Javy orders before you order without looking at the menu. You’d been committing it to memory all afternoon since Javy texted you the name and you immediately checked out the menu online. Once the waitress retreats again you speak. “Do you miss him?” You ask tentatively.

He nods. “He was the closest thing I had to a dad. Mine was never in the picture. Neither my mom nor my uncle ever talked about him either so I just stopped asking. Plus, I had my uncle and that was enough. I just wish he’d been able to see me make it, you know? I would have loved to have him there at the draft and then at my first NHL game. He gives you a wistful smile as he sips his water. But I’m still close with my mom and my sisters, so I’m grateful to have that.” You nod in understanding.

“Do they live here or are they back in Louisiana?”

“They’re back in New Orleans, but I try to get back home to them in the off-season and they come to visit sometimes during the season. Sometimes they’ll come to the away games in Dallas with Jake’s folks.

“You and Jake are close, right? I saw the photo of you guys in college.” You clarify. Javy’s face lights up and it makes you pause and you watch the joy and fondness fill his eyes.

“He’s my best friend,” Javy says with a laugh. “We were teammates and roommates in college. He’s basically my brother at this point.”

“Have you been on the same teams since then?” You ask and Javy shakes his head, a melancholy smile twisting his lips.

“We were at first, we both got drafted to the Coyotes and everything was perfect. Sure it's nerve-wracking to finally be in the NHL and playing at a professional level but it never felt that way with Jake there. It felt like we were still in college like nothing had changed at all, and that was good for our game, you know? We played like it was natural because it really felt like it was. Jake’s always been the star, though,” you see sadness creep into his eyes and your heart aches in response. “He was improving at an insane rate, and people could tell. Jake’s a natural leader, though, and he was always trying to pull me up to his level. It’s what makes him such a good captain. And then he outgrew us, and got traded to Dallas.” Javy shakes his head. “I never blamed him for taking his shot. Professional hockey takes a lot out of you and without a good support system it can crush you if you’re not careful. Jake got the chance to go home, or as close as he could get to it, and man if I could have a chance like that I probably would have gone too.”

“That doesn’t make it easier.” You say and he turns to you like he’s just remembered you’re there.

“It doesn’t,” he says, trailing off. It’s quiet between the two of you for a long moment before he speaks again. “Eventually I got traded to, and I went to San Jose and it wasn’t terrible. I dragged Nat out to California with me and we had our fun. But when I got the offer to come to San Diego, to start something new, it felt like it was time to go.”

“And you’d get to play with Jake again,” you pipe up and Javy laughs before shaking his head.

“I had no idea Jake was coming to San Diego when I signed the contract.” You blink, surprised. Your brow furrows in confusion.

“So Jake followed you?” Javy has a sad look in his eyes as he shakes his head again.

“Not quite that either.” He sighs, leaning back in his chair. “I forgot.” Your brow furrows in confusion. “That you don’t know everything.” He clarifies. “Most of it is public knowledge at this point so I just assume everyone knows already.”

“Sorry,” you mutter, trying again to smooth your sweaty palms over the nonabsorbent fabric of your dress and then settling for playing with your fingers.

“No, no you don’t have to apologize.” He waves you off with a firm shake of his head. “It’s nice, not having someone know every single thing about me before I tell them. I think I forgot what that’s like.”

“Oh,” you feel your cheeks heat as the waitress arrives with your food.

***

Dinner passes without incident and you slowly feel yourself getting used to Javy. He seems to be content doing most of the talking and you’re content to listen. The food is delicious and about halfway through the meal a jazz band strikes up some soft music providing a cozy backdrop. You notice Javy tapping his toes under the table. “Do you like jazz?” You ask.

“Beautiful, I’m from New Orleans, I LOVE jazz. More than love, it’s in my blood, mon amour.” You flush under the terms of endearment that normally you’d blame on alcohol except for the fact that Javy’s continued to join you by drinking water all night.

“I didn’t want to assume,” you whisper and he smiles, widely.

“Well, you assumed correctly. Come. Dance with me, Beautiful.” Javy extends his hand to you and your eyes go wide like a deer in the headlights.

“I-I can’t,” you stammer and Javy shakes his head, insistent. “Javy there’s no one else dancing,” you insist, glancing around the room at the other groups dining around you. Sure there’s a small space in front of the band that could serve as a dance floor if necessary but no one seems keen on utilizing it.

“Come on, Beautiful. Dance with me.” Javy says again, standing from the table and your eyes widen in terror.

“I told you, Javy, I can’t. Even if I wanted to, I can’t in these shoes.”

“So take them off,” you give him a look of pure horror.

“Javy, PLEASE. Please don’t make me.” You beg, terror gripping your nerves and you see something you can’t identify pass across Javy’s face before he nods and stands up straight.

“I’ll let you off the hook tonight, Beautiful, but I’ll get you to dance with me yet.” With that, he turns away from the table and your heart sinks in fear. Is he leaving? Without you? Certainly not, he hasn’t paid the bill yet. You reach out without thinking but Javy’s already moving across the room over to where the band is playing. You see him lean over to speak with them before he slips one of the microphones arranged around the musicians out of its stand and moves into the center of the would-be dance floor as the band starts playing again.

“I'm just a gigolo. Everywhere I go, people know the part I'm playing.” Javy begins to croon into the microphone and you notice a few patrons look up from their dinner as your face flushes even hotter. He’s not a bad singer, rough and unrefined but it suits the light jazz tune. “Paid for every dance, selling each romance. Oh, what they're saying. There will come day when youth will pass away. What will they say about me? When the end comes I know, they'll say just a gigolo. Life goes on without me.”

Your face heats as you process the words he’s singing. His expression is part sultry and part fun as he delivers the words.

After he repeats the verse he’s just sung the tune starts to pick up. “'Cause I ain't got nobody. Nobody cares for me. 'Cause nobody cares for me. I'm so sad and lonely. Sad and lonely, sad and lonely. Won't some sweet mama come and take a chance with me? 'Cause I ain't so bad.” He scats slightly as he sings and you can’t help the way your lips part slightly in surprised admiration. He reaches a hand in your direction, urging you to join him as the music transitions into a more instrumental section. The jazz is in full swing now and you feel the music as well as Javy calling to you in a way you’ve never experienced before. The sad lyrics contrasted with the upbeat tune fill your heart with a familiar melancholy that’s usually reserved for quiet nights alone spent working on your art and you think maybe that’s what makes you stand on wobbly feet and carefully make your way to where Javy’s swaying with the microphone and crooning and scatting into it. His eyes light up when he sees you coming and makes sure to meet you at the edge of the dance floor before gently taking your weight off your unsteady feet as he eases you into his arms.

He’s ditched the microphone at some point and a member of the band has taken up the vocals but he croons the words into your ear as he gently sways with you. He makes sure to keep the steps simple enough for you to keep up in your heels. Suddenly you’re at your senior prom all over again, in Andrew’s arms instead of Javy’s and then you’re tripping over your feet as your daydream bursts and you're grabbing at Javy’s silky shirt for purchase as his arms shift to keep you from falling.

“Easy, Meep, you okay?” He says and you see him searching your face. You nod, not trusting your voice until you clear your throat.

“I think I’m all danced out.” You whisper and he nods, gently guiding you back to the table where a giant slice of chocolate cake is waiting for the two of you.

“Here, Meep, eat some cake.” He says as he pulls out your chair for you. You nod absently, and while on any other day, you’d probably have loved the decadent desert but it tastes like dirt in your mouth as try to finish it quickly. “Meep, are you okay?” You don’t answer as you try not to empty your entire water glass in one go. “Roadie,” Javy says, reaching a hand out to touch your arm but you flinch away from the touch and he instantly pulls away, raising his hands in mock surrender.

“I’m sorry, I just. I’m not feeling very well. I think I’m ready to go home.” You whisper, head down and eyes focussed on your worrying hands.

“Okay. Okay, let’s get you home then.” You hear Javy flag down the waitress and pay the bill before he’s gently pulling your chair out and helping you to your feet, wrapping his jacket around your shoulders. “Meep,” he whispers to you as the two of you make your way to the door. “There’s going to be paparazzi outside, I’ll do the best to get us through there as fast as possible but I want you to have a heads up. I’m going to kiss you so they can get their shot and get out of our way, okay?” You nod, numbly, struggling considerably to plaster what you hope is an amorous smile on your face.

Javy doesn’t look convinced but he tucks you into his side nonetheless. Even Javy’s warning doesn’t fully prepare you for the onslaught of flashing lights when you exit the restaurant and you curl into Javy and he pulls you closer in response. He guides you to the car that’s been pulled up and he opens the door, tapping your wrist three times quickly before he kisses you. You’re still not entirely used to the feeling of kissing him but the door bumps your leg and you stumble. You throw your arms around Javy’s neck to catch yourself accidentally deepening the kiss and Javy slides a warm hand to hold your back against him before he pulls away, a concerned look in his eyes as he helps you fold yourself into the cramped interior of the car.

You tug Javy’s jacket further around you as you wait for Javy to come around to the driver’s side, trying to fold into yourself but as you tug the fabric closer, the scent of his cologne floods your nose, but this time it feels like a smokey snake, forcing itself down your throat and choking you. You shove it away, pushing the fabric down your shoulders as the night air chills your skin, urging you to pull the jacket back up. Instead, you wrap your arms around yourself as Javy opens the door and slides into the driver’s seat. Your eyes are locked on the console in front of you as you will the drive to be over as you hear the rumble of the engine coming to life.

“Meep?” You hear Javy calling out to you, concern in his voice as he pulls away from the restaurant. You don’t answer as you climb deeper into yourself. “Roadie?” His voice calls again but it sounds farther away this time. You still don’t answer, tugging on your arms, trying to get smaller and smaller as you squeeze your eyes shut and try to escape the moving car. You don’t realize the car has stopped until you feel the hands on your arms. Javy’s calling your name but you don’t answer. He must lean closer because your throat is once again violated by the scent of his cologne and you’re moving on instinct as you shove him away. You’re moving like you’re fighting through water as you shove at the seatbelt and fumble with the door to the car as you struggle to get out.

As the night air whips your hair around, you stumble, colliding with a cement partition. The salty air is like a shock to your system and your eyes shoot open as you come face to face with the blackness of the ocean. Your hands shoot forward to grab the partition before you can topple over it and you sink to the asphalt as the adrenaline leaves your body like it's been punched out alongside your breath. You don’t register Javy calling for you until he’s crouched in front of you, your terror reflected in his eyes, his hands shaking in time with yours as they cup your cheeks, searching your face. The world comes back into focus and you hear the rush of cars mere feet away on the highway as you realize Javy’s parked on the shoulder.

“Hey, hey, Roadie you okay?” Javy’s voice is shaking along with the rest of him. You nod, or at least you try to. Before you can stop him, he’s pulling you against him and you can feel the thunder of his heart through your chests pressed together. He releases you as quickly as he hugs you like it’s the product of an instinct he couldn’t suppress and then he’s taking more measured yet still shaky breaths.

“Javy?” you don’t recognize the voice that comes out of your mouth. He looks up and his deep brown eyes bore into you with a kind of cautious curiosity. “Can you take me home, please?” That seems to sober him up and he stands, offering you a hand to pull you up after him. You take it after pausing to fumble with your outfit for a moment. When you stand on your feet, you feel more stable than you have all night. Javy starts to lead you back to the car but you pause, turning back to the roiling ocean behind you and you toss the heels over the edge of the partition. The asphalt is rough under your feet but you feel grounded.

***

Javy can’t help the pride that slips onto his face as he watches you toss Josie Fitch’s overpriced deathtraps over the edge of the highway, down into the ocean below. His heart stopped when you’d practically dashed out of the parked car but from the terror he’d just seen in your eyes it seemed like maybe even you hadn’t been aware of your actions. Something in the restaurant had set you off, he just can’t figure out what. You’d been alright since you’d gotten settled there, you’d even worked up the courage to dance with him, and then just as quickly as it had come, some kind of invisible wall had gone up in your eyes and you’d shut him out.

He knows he shouldn’t care but he wants to know why. More than he’s wanted to know anything in his life before. He carefully leads you back to the car, worrying about your bare feet on this disgusting stretch of shoulder but you don’t seem concerned. You seem to have come back to yourself but you’re silent as he helps you fold yourself back into the car before he crouches down beside you. You give him a puzzled look as he holds out a hand to you so he reaches gently out for your feet. You start in surprise when his fingers brush your bare ankle but don’t pull away so he wraps his fingers around the soft skin and gently eases your foot into his grip. He examines the bottom, looking for any sort of injury, sweeping at the dusty skin, brushing aside dirt and small pebbles of asphalt clinging to your skin. Your first foot seems fine so he moves on to the other one. His lips pinch into a thin line as he reveals the underside and his eyes catch on a tiny piece of glass stuck in your skin. “Shit,” he mutters and you shift above him.

“What?” He hates how weak and scared your voice sounds.

“Easy, Beautiful, stay still for me for a second?” He looks up in time to see you nod. He shifts to reach for the glove compartment, popping it open. He pulls out a leather case and a pair of socks. Jake’s always so insistent on impromptu bowling outings that he keeps an extra pair of socks in all three of his cars. The leather case is from Nat’s insistence on being prepared for emergencies and for the first time he’s glad for her insistence as he unzips it. He takes out the first aid kid, first ripping open an alcohol swab and cleaning the area around the glass before he pinches it between his fingers and tugs it free. Your foot twitches as he hears the hiss of your breath. He tosses the offending shard somewhere behind him as he looks up just in time to see your teeth digging into the plump skin of your lower lip and liquid dancing at your lash line as your eyes meet his. “This will sting for just a second, okay?” He asks and you nod as he rips open another swab and swipes over the cut that’s starting to dribble blood. You hiss again and then he’s putting a bandaid over the cut. He rubs the top of your foot gently. “There we go, Meep, all done.” He reaches for the socks then, and gently eases one over each of your bare feet. Their slightly too big but it’s endearing. He stands then, wiping his hands on his pants. “Let’s get you home, Meep.” You nod silently.

***

Your foot throbs slightly in the background of your mind as you lean your head against the window. Javy’s socks are too big and a little scratchy but you don’t mind. You know throwing your shoes was stupid but Javy hasn’t said anything about it. You’re exhausted from the panic attack and the adrenaline of almost taking the tumble off the side of the road. You just want to be home. You don’t notice that you’ve drifted off until Javy’s gently shaking your shoulder to let you know that you’re here. But when you blink awake blearily you realize you aren’t at Javy’s apartment where you parked your car but instead, you’re in front of your apartment building. Embarrassment flushes your cheeks as you’re suddenly very aware of the stark difference between your dumpy suburban complex and Javy’s sleek luxury apartment building.

“I texted Josie and asked for your address and she said she’d pick you up tomorrow morning and drop you off at my place to pick up your car tomorrow,” Javy explains and you nod numbly.

“Thanks,” the word falls lamely off your lips. Javy climbs out of the car and comes around to help you out on your side. You give him an awkward tight-lipped smile as you fumble in the tiny clutch Josie lent you for your keys. “I’ve got it from here,” you assure him as you start to step away from him towards your building. The idea of Javy seeing your apartment right now is mortifying.

“Beautiful, if you think I’m not walking you to your door, you have another thing coming.” You’re exhausted so maybe that’s why your walls fall away as your brow tightens in irritation.

“I said I’m fine.” You frown slightly at him and he just crosses his arms over his chest.

“You’re hurt, you’re actively limping,” you glance down to see where your posture has shifted instinctively to favor your uninjured foot, “and it’s late. I’m walking you to your door. Either you can let me help or I can carry you, your choice.”

Your jaw drops at his brazen threat. “You don’t know what unit I live in.” You cross your arms across your chest and tilt your chin out, letting your anxiety and exhaustion channel into stubbornness.

“I’ll take that bet,” Javy says, grinning lazily at you. “Come on, Meep, let’s just go.”

“Fine,” you mutter and lead the way to your door, refusing Javy’s offer of a hand to steady you, favoring the railing of the stairs as you climb up to your floor. When you reach your door, you make sure to unlock it in front of Javy before you turn to him. “Goodnight, Javy. I’ll see you on Tuesday.” He nods, accepting your clear lack of an invitation to come in.

“See you, Roadie.” You watch him walk back down the hallway towards the stairs before you duck inside and lock the door behind you.

A/N: That was a LOADED chapter, but octopus soup day is up next!!! The song Javy sang was Just a Gigolo/ I Ain’t Got Nobody by Louis Prima, I was thinking about it one day and thought it would be a hilarious addition to the fic.

#san diego dogfighters #san diego dogfighters au #san diego dogfighters hockey au #false confidence // goldenseresinretriever #fc // goldenseresinretriever #javy coyote machado x you #javy machado x you #javy machado x reader #javy coyote machado x reader #javy coyote machado #javy machado #coyote x you #coyote x reader #top gun maverick #top gun maverick hockey au #tgm #top gun #no use of y/n

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bluebellhairpin · 4 months

Text

Erwin Smith X Fem!Reader

Summary; After being convinced to join Erwin's coup, you're sent to Mitras to become an informant under the guidance of Darius Zackly. Little does that old man know, you're there for more than just information.

Warnings; Reader now uses a prosthetic arm. Manipulation and treachery. Darius is a creep. Murder (you'll thank me later). Female reader.

Listening to; 'United In Grief' by Kendrick Lamar - "What is a woman that really hurt? A demon, you're better off killin' her."

Series Masterlist || Masterlist || Ko-Fi

Pawn Promotion; Occurs during an endgame when a Pawn reaches the farthest rank, and can then be replaced by a Queen, Rook, Bishop, or Knight. Often players add another Queen to the board - known as “Queening the Pawn”.

Your first meeting with Erwin after Shiganshina felt like something inside you changed, as if disrupted dust that never got the chance to settle finally got to rest. It hurt, and the heavy conversations after did too, but now you’d never felt more at peace.

It didn’t take long after for Erwin to present you to Hange - who was initially shocked to see you outside your room - who had started working on your new limb. You’d never seen anything like it before. Anything more than a wooden peg leg was foreign to you - seeing not just Erwin’s leg moving as if it were still there, then finding out you could do the same with your arm felt unreal.

Hange had turned into a miracle worker, but it still took months for you to learn how to properly use your new arm.

It slid onto the stump just below your elbow - but then it hurt. A sock was put over it - but then it turned itchy and rubbed raw. The fabric changed and that problem was over. You tried to use the arm, the wrist and fingers - but you weren’t used to having to pay so much attention. If you wanted to put your hand in a fist all you had to do was think it - now it took your whole arm.

Hange tried explaining it, saying you could use it better if you understood how it worked, but it never stuck. You didn’t have a mind for machines. You had no idea how tensing your shoulder was supposed to help you pick up a whole mug - let alone use the ODM gear.

Then Erwin came along - already having learnt about his new leg, and already ahead of you in learning how to use a whole new arm, not just the hand - and he taught you. You had no idea how, as far as you could tell he was saying the same things Hange was, yet they stuck. You learnt. By the time a years worth of training and late nights was over, it was almost like you’d never lost your hand at all. Almost.

You’d never come that close to dying before - and you certainly hadn’t been that injured on a mission before - that wasn’t something you could so easily re-learn.

Your training was haunted by shadows flying past your vision - shadows which left you flinching that looked so much like the thunderous pelting of rocks that almost became your own personal assassin. Running laps that ended with your thigh giving way with a painful twinge of nerves, the hollow where muscle was missing left you on the ground unable to move from the burning.

The late nights which not only consisted of learning a new limb, but trying to fend off what had to be the ghosts of those you lost and left behind. Some nights it was mountains of soldiers, clawing their way to you to take you back with them to rot. Other nights it was the titan, with sharp teeth and too long arms, smiling and taunting you with words so similar to your own.

But Erwin was always there. In the past he may not have been, but now he was. With open arms and all the time in the world, he let you in. Sometimes, on the nights when you knew you wouldn’t sleep, you laid awake in his bed. Your head on his chest and a palm over his heart as he slept, and it felt normal. It felt like it should be. Like you’d been doing it for years. Sometimes you could imagine that was your life - you, him, and peaceful nights.

But you knew what nightmares lay in your future, waiting and watching to strike as you went past. The moment Erwin started softening you up for it you hardened. Not toward him, but toward your enemies.

You weren’t even going to let them get the chance to try and kill you, let alone leave you able to walk away and come back stronger, angrier. You could feel a monster starting to wake in your belly, hot and heavy and ready for blood.

It would only be their own fault if it makes you kill them.

Read the Full Chapter on AO3! <3

taglist; @pockcock @xxruinaxx | if you'd like to be added to the taglist let me know, and remember to show some support (reblogs and comments are appreciated) <3

#erwin smith x reader #erwin x reader #commander erwin x reader #erwin x you #aot x female reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #aot x you

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callsigndragon · 2 years

Text

Seeing Red | Ch. 51: Checkmate (Part I)

Wordcount: 3.3k

Warnings: mentions of kidnapping, death, weapons, killing, mama and papa bear seresin are here to stay. angst angst aNGST, mentions of pregnancy, supportive fam… and a cliffhanger

A/N: besties, this is so long that i had to split it in half. second part of the chapter will be published today as well, don’t worry.

Follow @jinxlibrary for notifications! Masterlist is on pinned.

IMPORTANT DATA FOR THE CHAPTER: There's a mention of a chess move in the chapter. It's called promotion. When a pawn reaches the end of the board it “promotes”, it turns into another piece. Most of the time players promote to a queen, but a rook, knight, or bishop is also possible.

“For the hundredth time, I didn’t see anyone, McGee.” You reply, tired of the same questions. He’s been asking them for an hour now.

"Are you sure? Because maybe you saw a tattoo or something?" He insists, looking at you.

"McGee, she said she didn't see anything." Jake, who is standing next to you, glares at the agent and tells him to stop asking questions. McGee closes his notepad, rolls his eyes, and leaves the room.

You turn in the hospital gurney you've been sitting in since Jake brought you there. He didn’t accept "no" for an answer, and once he felt the swelling in the back of your head, where the kidnapper had hit you, he rushed you to the ER. Doc happened to be there once the two of you entered, with white faces and void eyes. She knew that something had happened, and even though she’s a pediatrician and adults aren’t her specialty, she insisted on taking care of you.

That’s when she found out you were pregnant. It was still too early to see anything in an ultrasound, but she asked for some blood tests, and when they came back, everything was okay and the pregnancy test was positive.

Jake hadn't left you once in all the time you'd been in the hospital, his hand always on yours, wedding bands in constant contact. Neither of you has said a word, both of you are silently blaming yourselves for something that is not your fault. The only one to blame here is the one who planned this, the one who has been trying to hurt you every day since you came back together.

And you want to talk to him to convince him that he did the right thing. That he’s not the one to blame for leaving you alone. You were supposed to be safe while in base, and for some reason, that security had been taken away from you as well as your kid.

But you can’t tell him that when your own thoughts and the voices inside your head are screaming at you to do something, to get up from that blue bed and search far and wide until you find your son.

Your body, however, is completely stiff and frozen.

“Red, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left you al-” You cover his mouth with your hand, and the action makes him look at you with a raised brow.

“It’s not your fault. Someone got into base, and we don’t know how. But it’s not your fault, Jake.”

"How are you so calm?" He asks with a broken voice, hand caressing your arm. “I can’t even think properly.”

You sigh, looking down at his hands. “It’s a game, Jake.”

“What?”

You caress his cheek softly, somehow the action brings comfort to the two of you. “What did he leave for you in that box?”

“A red queen.”

You move your hand to your pocket, getting out another chess piece. Is a white pawn. “Liam is only a pawn, Jake. He won’t hurt him.”

Jake takes the piece in his hand, looking at it. “Why didn’t you tell McGee about this?”

“Because he took our pawn, and now it’s our turn to make a move. We can't involve the police or the NCIS in this.”

"You have a white pawn, while I have a red queen. Why?"

"I think the queen was just to scare you, to remind you of something you lost in the past. The pawn, however, is something that is missing now. In chess, the pawn is a piece that can become something else." You explain, observing how Jake's fingers turn the pawn around. It reminds you of how he plays with Liam's fingers when he falls asleep on his chest while watching a movie.

Jake raises his head slowly, the meaning behind your words hitting him instantly. "A promotion."

"If he doesn't get his knight back…" You begin, getting up from the bed.

"...he will turn the pawn into a knight." You nod, watching as he closes his eyes in desperation. “If I had stayed with him, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“If you didn’t run away, Liam wouldn’t exist. So please, stop blaming yourself.” You reassure him, trying to make him understand that this is not his fault. “Jake, I wouldn’t change a thing in my life. I would choose you in every single lifetime.”

Jake nods absentmindedly, pulling from his pocket the red queen piece that McGee gave him early. It didn't have fingerprints. "What are we gonna do, Red?"

“We need to make a move.” You hear someone getting close to the room, and you hide the pawn in Jake’s pocket. Both of you turn around, waiting to see who’s coming. You relax when you see Mav and Iceman.

“There you are. I’m so sorry, guys.” Mav says as he opens his arms and approaches you both. You let Jake be the first to receive Mav's embrace. “I won’t ask how you’re feeling because I could never comprehend the pain you’re feeling.”

Jake steps back, sniffling and wiping a stray tear with his fingertips. You let Mav hug you now, the warmth of his body making you feel better and worse at the same time. “We’re not good. And we won’t be until we get our baby back.” You explain, hugging Jake’s arm.

“Those guys, Tony and Tim, they are talking about search warrants and stuff like that.” Ice mumbles, looking between you and Jake. “I’m sorry. I swore that you’d be safe here and I didn’t keep my word.”

“Ice, you couldn’t have prevented this.” You reply, trying to make him feel better. It’s futile, and you know it. Nobody will feel better until you bring Liam back home.

“I could have tried. I never thought one of us could make this.” He says, sitting on the bed.

You frown at his words. “Wait, one of us? What do you mean by one of us?”

“Apparently, a person from the base took him. He had been relocated here from another base five months ago.”

“Do you have a picture or something?” Jake urges, wanting to know who this man who has kidnapped your baby is.

Ice takes out his phone, tapping at it several times until he finds the picture he’s looking for. He turns it around, and you don’t recognize him. Average white man, blue eyes, dark hair with a buzz cut. It would be like every other man you see almost every day at base if it weren’t for the large scar crossing his left eye.

“I haven’t seen him.” You comment, looking at Jake, whose hands are balled into fists. “Jake?”

“His name is Vlad. He works with my dad.” He reveals, a muscle in his jaw twitching. “Vlad is Gregory’s left hand.”

Mav looks at Ice, deception all over his face. He’s not mad at him, however. He’s mad with the system that didn’t work. “How is it possible that nobody saw a connection with him?”

“Because never uses his real name. There’s no way we could have linked him with Gregory.” Jake sighs, rubbing the sides of his head. “Look, I appreciate that you tell me who took my son, but I already know that. What I want to know is what the fuck I’m supposed to do now.”

“Jake,” you warn him, knowing that he’s about to snap at the wrong people. Mav and Ice don’t deserve it.

“I don’t care about what the NCIS says, Red. I’m not gonna stay here and wait for them to bring my kid back.” He barks, almost throwing the phone against the wall. Lucky for Ice, he manages to get it from Jake’s hands in time.

“But you don’t know where he is, Jake. You need to wait.” Mav reminds him, patting his back.

That’s right. You don’t know where Liam is, and you need NCIS help to find him.

Wait.

You know where he is.

“Oh my god, I’m so fucking stupid.” You get your phone out of your bag, and try to unlock it, but you’re so nervous that you keep pressing the wrong numbers. “Come on, you fucking useless block.”

“Red, what are you doing?” Jake questions, looking over your shoulder to see what you’re doing.

“Liam has a GPS in his pants.” You almost scream when you can’t unlock the stupid phone. Jake opens his hand, waiting for you to give him the phone. You do, as you watch him unlock it in one go, his hands more steady than yours.

“A GPS?” Iceman inquires, surprised but relieved that you can track your child.

“Sarge, well, Payback’s wife, bought it. I sewed a hidden pocket in every single one of his pants, and I’ve been hiding it, just in case.” You confess, logging into the app that is connected to the tracking device.

“Why didn't I know about this?” Jake mumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I don’t know, I just thought the less people knew about it, the better.” You reply, not looking away from the screen, and sigh in relief when you see that the tracking device is working. The signal is moving north, too fast to be on a car.

“He’s flying.” Jake comes to the same conclusion as you.

“Someone stole one helicopter.” Ice adds, and now you know how Liam has disappeared so quickly.

“But where are they going?”

Jake takes the phone again, moving the map to see what cities are ahead of them. “Hidden Hills.”

“What’s in Hidden Hills?” You inquire, locking the phone and looking around the room at Jake, who is now pacing.

"The house where I grew up."

The image that not so long ago danced around in your brain, the one that featured a small kid that looked like Liam, a kid that wandered in a gigantic mansion with dark and infinite walls, comes back to your mind to haunt you. But this time, the kid is Liam. You need to rescue your son.

“We need a helicopter.” You glance in Ice’s direction, asking silently for permission.

“I can’t. A kid has disappeared, and we’re not allowed to move out of the base until he appears.”

“We’re fucked up, then.”

"Take my bike. Go get your son." Mav stuffs a hand in his pocket, reaching for his motorcycle keys.

"But we can't leave," you say, looking out the window and counting the car patrols outside the building. Tony called them when you were brought to the ER, not wanting another member of the Seresin family to disappear. “The moment we step out of the hospital, one of those officers will follow every step we make.”

“And that’s my cue.”

After hearing the female voice, you turn around to see Sarge and Payback standing there with the rest of the Daggers behind them. You can feel your chest swell with pride at the people in front of you, your family, who have always claimed that when the time comes, they’ll be with you, for better or worse. And here they are.

“Oh my god, Sarge.” You go with them, feeling dozens of arms surrounding you in a big, comforting hug. “The GPS is working, I know where he is.”

“Told ya it would work.” She smiles, patting your hair.

The guys look at Jake, who is leaning against the wall and not looking at them. “Jake, come on. This is not your fault.”

“I will punch the next one that says that.” He grunts, lifting his eyes from the floor to glare at Rooster. “And you know how much it hurts.”

“We’re losing precious time here.” Nat mumbles, looking outside the door. “There’s a car in the underground parking.”

Jake hears Nat’s words and takes a deep breath. He knows what they’re implying. Take the car and drive to Hidden Hills. He would do it in a heartbeat, but there’s a problem.

He knows you’re going to insist on coming with him. He can’t have two babies in that house.

“You’re staying, Red.”

“You’re not going anywhere without me.” You retort, not looking at him.

Jake grabs you softly by the arm, turning you around. “I can’t put another baby at risk.”

“Another baby?” Bob repeats. “Red, are you pregnant?”

“Yes, I'm pregnant. But Jake, you need me.” You insist, ignoring the excited laughs from the daggers. “You can’t go there alone. He won’t let you go.”

“I can’t have another one of my babies in that house.”

You press a hand against his chest, closing your eyes and preparing yourself for the next words you’re going to say. “Jake, we can make another baby. But there’s only one you.”

"I went to the station and got you vests. You’ll be okay. You have everything you need in the truck.” Sarge's hand closes around yours, pressing the car keys against your skin. "He's one hour ahead of you. You need to go now."

You never take your eyes away from Jake's, which are narrowed in tension and darting all over your face. Words wouldn't be able to express all the emotions that are running through his head right now. Rage, terror, fury—all conveyed in one single green stare.

"If anything happens to you now that I have you back..." His voice falters, cracking with unshed tears that break the remains of your heart. Promising that everything will be okay is cruel and unfair. The chances of coming back with your kid are low. But you have to take risks, or you won’t see Liam again.

“Nothing will happen to me.” You promise him, kissing him softly while all the voices in your head scream at you, calling you a liar. You know, and you’re sure he knows too, that you’ll risk everything to make sure that Liam and Jake come back safe to San Diego. Even if that means sacrificing yourself.

“Shit, that Italian agent is coming.” Mickey whisper-yells, and you grab Jake’s hand.

“Doc, is there an elevator that goes to the underground parking?” You ask her, and she quickly nods, handing you two white coats like the one she’s wearing.

“Wear this. It’ll make you look like a doctor, and they won’t stop you.”

You hug all of them quickly and follow Doc, who is quickly turning around corners until she finds the elevator she’s looking for. “It’s this one. Be careful, okay?”

Jake watches as you hug her; the woman is almost tearing up at the thought of something happening to any of you. You whisper something in her ear, something you can’t hear, and she nods, pushing both of you inside the elevator once the doors open.

You can see her tears before the doors close again.

It’s a two hour trip until you get to Hidden Hills. Almost three, actually. And you don't even know how you're going to pass through security once you're there. Hidden Hills is a safe place for celebrities and rich people. No one passes security without previous authorization.

"Jake, we won't be able to pass the guard without being noticed."

"We're not using the main entrance, sweets." He says this while taking his hand off the steering wheel and searching for yours. "My father's house has a secret tunnel. That's our way in."

You nod, looking outside the window. It's so dark outside that you can barely see anything, just trees passing by in a blur. The obscurity is disturbed once in a while by the car lights in the other lane, a brief moment of light in the moonless night.

"Once we get Liam, you're running the fuck out." He orders, his eyes focused on the road ahead.

You shake your head. "I'm not leaving without you."

"Liam is the main priority, Red. He won't hurt him or me. He needs us, you said it yourself."

"Why is he so desperate? Why does he need an heir so bad?"

Jake moves your intertwined hands to his lips, softly kissing your knuckles. You don’t know if the action is supposed to calm you or him. "I don't care. He took our kid. That's the last straw."

Your voice comes out in a shaky breath when you pronounce your next words. "You know there's only one way of ending this, right?"

"We've killed people before, Red."

"Pressing a button while I'm flying. I never had to see the face of the target I'm trying to eliminate!" You protest, feeling a throbbing headache take over your body.

"You won't have to pull the trigger."

You don't say anything after that. The seriousness in his voice makes you ponder how many times he has dreamed of this moment, of finally having the opportunity to put an end to a lifetime of nightmares and psychological torture. You can't even imagine how bad a father has to be for his own son to think about killing him.

You're glad you don't know.

"Rest a bit, okay? I'll wake you up when we're there."

"Promise me that you won't leave me in the car."

"If I go inside that house alone, who's gonna get Liam out?"

Yeah, he needs you to get Liam to a safe place. You can close your eyes, knowing that we won't try to play hero and leave without you.

The secret tunnel Jake mentioned is hidden in a hillside. At the top of that hill is Jake's childhood home. Jake parks the car behind some tall bushes, drumming his fingers against the wheel. He's nervous and scared.

"Let's see what Sarge gave us." You mutter, opening the door and getting out of the car, walking slowly, a part of you not wanting to open the truck and check the contents. Doing it means facing the idea that you may become a murderer, with all the consequences that entails.

Sarge has provided you with almost everything you might need: bulletproof vests, tactical boots, knives, boxing hand wraps, belts filled with magazines for the guns…

"Why the hand wraps?" Jake inquires, grabbing one of the pairs.

"It prevents bruised knuckles." You explain, looking at your hands. "We have to take our rings off."

Jake slips the platinum band off his finger and hides it in one of the vest pockets. "This will work."

You suit up quietly, not even speaking when you need his help to close the vest, or to help you wrap your hands. A soft touch on his arm is enough for him to know that you need him. It's similar to when you're cooking at home—soft touches to catch the other person's attention, no need for words. It's always been like this. And a part of you seems to find comfort in the fact that even at the worst moments, you're still in sync.

Jake doesn't let go of your hands when he finishes wrapping them. You raise your head, watching how he struggles to keep his eyes open, knowing that the moment he blinks, tears will run freely down his face. He can't cry. It's not the moment to cry.

"It's only been what… three months since I got you back?" He mumbles, his words forming a lump on his throat that doesn't seem to go away. "And I might lose you again."

"You're not gonna lose me." Jake leans down to press his forehead against yours as you cup his face between your hands. "We're gonna go in there, get our kid, and walk out without a scratch."

He nods, kissing your forehead, your nose, and your lips in that order. You've always wondered how a final kiss before a battle felt, if it was truly filled with all the emotions you couldn't express aloud in such a short period of time.

It is probably the best kiss you've ever had.

Jake wipes his face, taking a deep breath, and when he opens them again, you can't see a single trace of Jake in them.

That's Hangman. Fierce, determined, and deadly.

"Let's go get Liam," he says, cocking his gun.

You nod, following him towards the tunnel.

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miabebe · 4 months

Text

I Am What I Am (VI)

A man of the shadows and a woman who belonged in the skies - fate could not have brought two more different people together. But was this fate or was this a choice?

Pairing - Im Changkyun x OC, Kim Mingyu x OC

Word Count - 8.8K

Warnings - Oh you know, the usual drill - mentions of guns, blood, death, mafia and we have a little bit of stripping action going on here :)

Chapter summary - Na bi steps up from pawn to player as both sides of the board play their own game. But with every move she was making, the lines between victory and loss were blurring in ways she did not foresee.

| Previous Chapter | Masterlist |

"Oh thank god!"

Ears catching his voice, Na bi turned only to find herself full body slammed into the blur of a hard chest. Wrapping her arms around him, she held on for balance, both surprised and relieved by his presence.

"Where have you been?" Mingyu tightened his arms around her, his voice muffled against her shoulder. "I've been worried sick. I've been looking everywhere-"

"Okay, okay." She rubbed his back softly. "You don't have to worry, I'm good at taking care of myself."

"We hadn't heard from you in days Na bi, how could I not worry? Especially with I.M around, I thought he kidnapped you or did something-"

"What?" Na bi felt her mouth go dry as she peeled herself away from him, looking up confused. "What do you mean? Weren’t you the one who sent me to him?"

Mingyu looked at her just as confused. "I sent you to him??"

Na bi glanced around the wards before grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him into a nearby store room.

"First of all, Mingyu, how did you know I was here?"

Given her phone was barely functioning, Na bi had spent all morning wondering how to contact Mingyu once she came to the city. Her plan was to go to the one place that was both unsuspiciously crowded and incredibly familiar to her - the hospital. She thought she could slowly figure things out once she got here but lucky for her, Mingyu was there the moment she stepped foot into the wards.

"Your phone." He answered, pointing at the small bag slung around her shoulders. "You've been off radar for days so I've been trying to track your phone day and night. Today I suddenly got a signal, moving towards the hospital so I rushed over immediately."

Na bi leaned back against the shelves stacked with medications in relief, "Well, I was looking for a way to find you anyways, so I guess it's good you found me."

"What happened all this while? Where were you?" He held her by the shoulders softly, looking at her like he still couldn't believe she was here. "And what did you mean by that? That I sent you to him?"

"Wasn't all this your idea? To make him think I'm in danger and then have him rescue me?"

"Yeah that was the plan, after we had finished properly briefing and training you."

Na bi frowned. "Training?"

"You didn't think we were going to send you to a wolf’s den without proper preparation, did you?” Mingyu scoffed. “Na bi, he's a criminal, of course we were going to make sure you're at least capable of protecting yourself if it came down to it. Then we'd have set a time and place for it all and-"

"So you……. you didn't send men after me?"

"No, I didn't. We didn’t even brief you about the mission entirely, about what we needed you to do, how could we...."

Na bi felt a strange ringing in her ears as his words trailed off. It wasn't Mingyu's men. That day in the alley, it wasn't Mingyu’s men. That meant she was….. actually being chased. That someone out there was still looking for her, that she was still very much in danger and Changkyun..... he truly had come to her rescue.

“Na bi?”

Na bi looked up at Mingyu, breaking from her reverie.

“What did you say?”

“What happened after that? After those men chased you?”

“I went unconscious after I ran into Wonho and his men, then when I woke up, I was in his house-”

“IM’s house? His own house?”

“Yeah.” Na bi nodded. “It’s this large house in the middle of a forest but Mingyu the concerning thing is.” She pulled out her map drawings from her bag, walking up to a nearby table and laying them open as Mingyu loomed over them. "I was near the sea."

"The sea?" Mingyu turned to her surprised. "In Seoul?"

"Exactly. I know it sounds ridiculous so at first I thought maybe we were somewhere near Boryeong or Sokcho? But I've scoured nearly the whole area and it’s just the ocean, all around, I think....." She took a deep breath. "My theory is that he’s based on an island."

Mingyu’s eyes widened with epiphany, like things were finally making sense.

“That’s why we’ve never been able to find him in Seoul.” He scoffed. “Because he’s never here. The bastard hides on an island.”

“I think so.” Na bi emphasized on the ‘think’. “If I had just managed to explore the east side, and found the ocean there as well, it would have confirmed my theory. We still wouldn’t know his exact location so I’m not exactly sure how that could have helped but-“

“It wouldn’t." Mingyu sighed. "Look Na bi, this is great work. You’ve done a whole deal more in a week than our entire department had done in years and I’m sure this information would help somehow but right now, this is not enough. Knowing where to find him isn't sufficient unless we get our hands on something that ties him to the crimes he’s committed - that’s what we needed you to do.”

“Like what, evidence?”

Mingyu nodded. “We all know he’s a criminal and he’s done horrible things but there’s never been any concrete evidence to implicate him. That’s what this mission was meant for - to find evidence that tied him to the one crime we know he’s committed - Ana’s murder. We only you could have gotten your hands on anything at all, like his gun or his confession would have been even better-”

“What did you say?” Na bi’s grip tightened over her bag. “His gun?”

Mingyu nodded. “If you could have gotten his gun with his fingerprints on it and the bullets matched the ones we found in her body, it would have been irrefutable evidence and we could have put that man behind bars for good. Then everything we’ve done so far would have been worth it….” Mingyu looked at Na bi’s impassive face. “What’s wrong?”

Na bi stared at Mingyu not knowing what to say to the man. It was only when he reiterated the question that she shook her head slowly, gulping the phantom lump in her throat.

“Nothing, I was just….thinking about what you said, about everything we’ve done so far.” She cleared her throat again, gathering all her papers, stuffing them into her bag. “Let me see what I can do, I’ll be going back to his house again-”

“You will?” Mingyu looked at her slightly surprised. “You’re… you’re not back for good?”

Na bi shook her head, “He offered to keep me in his protection. It would make sense for me to stay at least until my suspension is over.”

“That means you still have an opportunity to do the job.” Mingyu looked at her expectantly. “That means it's not too late.”

Na bi nodded as Mingyu’s face morphed from relief to concern, like he was worried he was asking for too much.

“Will you be okay though? Does he treat you fine?” He rubbed her arm, softly. “He doesn’t suspect anything?”

“He…” treats me like I’m precious. “I’m fine, I’ll be fine too, I’ve not done anything that’s too strange so I don’t think he suspects me.”

“But he might.” Mingyu emphasized. “If he finds you snooping around for evidence he might get suspicious, so please be careful. I don’t think people like him are sympathetic to those who blindside them.”

“I know.” Na bi muttered under her breath. “I know what it’s like to be blindsided…”

“What is that?” Mingyu frowned, not having heard her soft voice. “Is there something else you need to tell me?”

Staring at him, Na bi zipped up the bag carrying the exact gun Mingyu was looking for and shook her head. Taking a good look at her, he sighed.

“Na bi I know I pushed you for this mission, all I wanted was for you to clear your name but.” Softly holding her hands, he pulled her up against him, wrapping his arm around her once more. “If anything happens to you because of it, I won’t be able to live with myself.”

“Don’t worry.” Na bi looked over his shoulder at her reflection in the glass shelves. This time she didn’t hold him back. “I won’t let myself become a victim in this game.”

Seokmin stared at the gun placed before him, eyes flickering between it and Na bi.

“So then…” He gulped. “You didn’t give Mingyu the gun?”

Na bi who had barged into Seokmin’s office unannounced, filled him in with all that happened so far, and was now sitting across him at his desk, shook her head, mindlessly rotating the revolver on his table.

Seokmin shuddered. “Please stop playing with that.”

Muttering an apology under her breath, she grabbed it and stashed it back in her bag.

“I couldn’t give it.”

“Why not?” Seokmin blinked at her, confused. “Na bi, if you had, you could’ve gotten out of all this. The NIS could have matched the bullets, figured out the prints-“

“Yes, except……” Na bi finally said what was weighing her mind this entire time. “Ana didn’t die from a gunshot. She bled out by a slit on each wrist-”

“Wait,” Seokmin sat up surprise. “You mean like all those cases we’ve been seeing in the ER?”

Na bi nodded. “It’s apparently his signature, it’s how he marks his job. Mingyu showed me a picture of Ana’s body and I saw it, the slits on her wrists but Seokmin, there were no bullet wounds so why….” Na bi picked on the skin of her finger lost in thought. “Mingyu still isn’t being fully honest with me.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Think about it Min-ah, Tartarus has been a problem for years now, not even the WipeOut could fully eliminate them. Yes, they brought down the big ol' BlackJack, but only for a much smarter, much more efficient leader to take his place. You’d think at least now they’d figure that they should target the organization as a whole but Mingyu,” Na bi recalled the conversations she’d been having with him over the last many meetings. “Mingyu, Jihoon, they’re all only interested in the man and the man alone.”

“Why do you think that is?”

Na bi shrugged. “I don’t know whether to assume they aren’t learning from previous mistakes or if there’s something else going on.”

“But how does it matter?” Seokmin leaned back. “With IM, you’re at the risk of him catching up to what you are doing and with the NIS, you’re at the edge of legal prosecution and having your life ruined in a whole other way. The only way for you to safely get out of this situation is to do whatever the fuck Mingyu wants you to and let them handle IM. Why do you care about the implications-”

“Ana.” Na bi insisted. “In part, I am responsible for what happened to her-”

“That is not true.”

“But it is, if not for my meddling the situation would probably not have-”

“You don’t know that Na bi.” Seokmin raised his voice. “You don’t know anything…..” He softened looking at her face. “That’s what you can’t stand, isn’t it?”

“Maybe.” Na bi confessed honestly. “The reason I agreed to help Mingyu was so I could get some answers about Ana but I’m nowhere close. I still don’t know why he went from wanting to talk to her to cold blooded murder.”

“And the reason you still don’t know that is because you chose to throw yourself into every and any other exploration rather than having a direct conversation with him.”

Na bi rolled her eyes. Only because she knew he was absolutely right.

“Why is that Na bi?” Seokmin edged despite knowing the answer already. “Afraid of what his answer will be? Are you still that attracted to him?”

Na bi blinked at Seokmin like he was being ridiculous but sighed when continued looking at her pointedly.

“I…I don’t know how to explain it, I don’t want to be. Knowing what he did with Ana, I know I shouldn’t be but every time he comes in front of me, I forget all purpose. It’s like I’m nothing but an embodiment of hormones, it’s…..it’s repulsive.”

“It’s human.” Seokmin sympathized. “You said so, it’s a primal response of a woman to a man. But the good thing is, you do know better than this.”

“Do I?” Na bi stared out of the window behind Seokmin. “I’ve been running through miles and miles of forest to convince myself that I am doing it with a purpose when what I’ve actually been running away from is him. I keep saying that I’ve not been able to find out more things because he’s never around but the truth is, a part of me is glad he isn’t. I’m glad to not have to face him because everytime I do, I feel like I’m on the losing side of things. To add to all of it, he’s not even a little interested in me.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

Na bi shook her head. “He has someone he loves, either she left him or she’s dead but the point is, he’s not over her.”

“We don’t know that, we don’t know what happened in his past.”

“Mrs. Lee told me-”

“Mrs. Lee did not witness what happened between the two of you the night he dropped you home.” Seokmin insisted. “And that was literally hours after you met for the first time. You cannot tell me he’s not into you.”

Na bi felt her breath quicken as the events of that night flashed in her head. The touches, the way it felt….

“Well nothing has happened since.” She turned away frustrated. “You know what it’s been like for me Seokmin? It’s physically excruciating to keep my hands away from him - that’s what it is like when you’re “into someone”. That man is not attracted to me because trust me, I’d know if he was.”

“I’m still going to have to disagree with-”

“God you’re pissing me off-”

“Think about it Na bi, who were the ones who chased you?”

“What?”

Seokmin looked at her pointedly. “Considering the fact that he was attacked, whoever his enemies are, they have discovered him already. That means you are no longer relevant or needed. The NIS on the other hand has claimed that they did not send their men for your little act, so then who was after you?”

Na bi looked at him with a loss of words.

“Okay, tell me this, was it you who asked to stay in his house or was it him who offered?”

Na bi blinked, confused. “I don’t remember, I think it was him-”

“Exactly.” Seokmin slammed the table. “You didn’t enter his world because you wanted to. You’re there because he wanted this. Because he wants you.”

Na bi let out a deep breath as Seokmin leaned back into his chair, victoriously making his point.

“Use that to your advantage Na bi. You can bring that man to his knees if you want.”

Sprawled on the couch, Na bi was on her second glass of whiskey for the night when Changkyun walked into the house. The clock chimed softly, making her look up. It was 2 AM.

“You’re awake Ms. Baek.” Noticing her presence in the dimly lit space, Changkyun stopped in his tracks.

“So are you.” Na bi tipped her head back, finishing up the last of her drink before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Is being nocturnal characteristic of the infamous man of the shadows?”

Changkyun smiled, amused at her slightly slurring self. “More like a necessity.”

“Not very different from us doctors, you know.”

Na bi muttered, making an unsuccessful attempt to pull herself off the couch, and then another. Just as she began to try again, Changkyun walked up to her, holding out his hand. Knowing she was too tipsy for this, she took his hand, allowing him to pull her up to her feet, face inches away from him.

They always seemed to find themselves like this, inches apart, a palpable electricity surging between them among the hundreds of questions and possibilities.

As usual, Changkyun took a step back to walk away but this time, Na bi held his hand.

“Don’t go.” His eyes stared at their intertwined hands before looking up at her flushed face. “Have a glass with me, it gets really lonely here.”

Perhaps he understood that because he didn’t disagree. Instead he took the empty glass from her other hand, and walked towards the bar at the edge of the kitchen. Na bi followed him slowly, looking out of the large french windows across, watching as lightning lit up the night sky.

“Looks like it's going to rain.” She observed and as Changkyun poured out two glasses, as if on cue, rain too began to pour outside.

Na bi grabbed a glass and walked closer to the window, tracing the streaks of water running down the cold surface. The sound of the rain filled the silence between the two of them - somehow although no words were exchanged, Na bi felt incredibly at peace.

As the light buzz of the whiskey took the wheel, she took a deep breath, and looked over her shoulder, finally breaking the silence.

“Do you want to play a game?”

Changkyun raised an eyebrow. “A game?”

Na bi nodded slowly, turning around to find Changkyun leaning against the bar table, watching her.

“It’s simple.” She quickly downed her third glass. “We ask each other questions. If we answer it correctly we get to drink a glass.”

Changkyun swirled the ice in his whiskey with his finger. “Seems like you’ve drank enough Ms. Baek, I think you should sleep.”

With you?

Na bi recalled the night they shared in her room - the same kind of energy was surging between the two of them again, like history was about to repeat.

Licking her lips, she walked over, stopping inches away from him. “But if we don’t answer, then we strip. One article for one question.”

Chankgyun's eyes wandered down her body before he tilted his head at her. "You're not wearing much."

In hindsight, she should have considered that Changkyun was in his usual 3 piece suit while all she had on was a night gown and a robe but now it was too late to back off.

"That shouldn't be a problem.” She stood beside him, filling her glass again, resting her arms on the surface. “I don't intend to lose."

Changkyun looked at her, tongue poking his cheek before he raised his glass in a challenge.

"Ladies first."

Na bi nodded, staring at her drink, trying to figure which of the hundreds of questions in her mind to voice.

“Do you find me attractive?”

Changkyun looked at her with an intensity that made her cheeks burn.

“Insanely.”

Lips parted, she blinked surprised. Oh.

“My turn.”

The two of them looked away as Na bi held her breath, wondering what he might possibly ask her.

"What's the case number of your first patient?"

"What?" Na bi turned to him, dumbfounded. Given the situation, that's what he wanted to ask? "That was so many years ago."

"I'm not hearing an answer."

"You can't possibly expect me to remember that?"

"Answer Ms. Baek, or should I remind you of your rules?"

She looked away annoyed. "Fine, it's S175-"

"You do know you're a terrible liar." Changkyun smiled with amusement dancing in his eyes. He was mocking her.

"The question is unfair."

"So is lying." He leaned, his lips hovering by the shell of her ear. "Strip."

Na bi stared at him for a hot minute feeling the throbbing of her pulse in very unwarranted areas of her body. Shivering a little, she slipped the robe off her shoulders and threw it aside. A slight smirk danced on his lips.

“Winners deal the next hand, right?”

Na bi rolled her eyes at what seemed like a blatant attempt to make her completely strip with the help of baseless questions but before she could deny, Changkyun spoke up.

"What’s your sister’s name?"

What?

Na bi blinked at him, completely taken aback. That.... that was the last thing she was expecting him to ask. How did he even know? Had she ever mentioned her sister to him? Na bi hadn’t taken her name in years….

Understanding her silence, Changkyun held his hand out. Realizing belatedly, Na bi unhooked the small necklace of charms she always wore and dropped it into his palm. Changkyun slipped it into his pocket safely as he walked up to the window, staring outside.

“Where’s your sister now Ms. Baek?”

What was he doing? Here Na bi thought she could get him to answer some of her doubts instead here he was, asking her the very questions that were closing up her throat. Why was he asking her these?

As Changkyun’s finger tapped his glass impatiently, Na bi reached for the hem of her nightgown and pulled it over her head. Sure she was able to confidently do it given all that whiskey in her system and the frustration that she was losing, but the moment she cast the gown aside, self consciousness took over, making her glance at Changkyun’s back. He did not turn.

"What happened between you and your sister Ms. Baek?"

Swallowing the phantom lump in her throat, Na bi continued to stare at him. Why was he pressing this? Did he know something? How could he know anything at all?

Knowing that she dug this grave for herself, Na bi began to unclasp her bra when Changkyun looked over his shoulder.

"I don’t know why it feels like I’m losing Ms. Baek." Na bi blinked at him as he finally turned to her. "You'd rather undress than confide. You protected your secrets - I guess that makes you the victor."

Na bi opened and closed her mouth, words not leaving it. This game couldn't end here, she barely got the chance to even ask him anything.

"You didn't lose, you’re withdrawing.” She took a weak shot at his ego. “It's worse, it's cowardly."

"Is it?" He smiled. "Am I the one who's afraid?"

No. Not at all. It was her who was terrified. Terrified of what he said. Terrified of what he knew. Terrified of what she might do. Knowing that she had long crossed the line she had drawn yet desperate to not truly be the one who lost tonight, Na bi slipped her bra off as one last attempt.

"Yes, because whatever it is, I'm not afraid."

Changkyun's eyes hardened but not in the way she had assumed it would.

"Ms. Baek." He walked up, Na bi's pulse matching his every step. "Let me lose myself to you one more time."

She gulped as he placed himself incredibly close, slowly stripping out of his jacket.

"You're truly one of the most beautiful and attractive women I've ever seen. Perhaps the most." His fingers ran across her shoulder, pushing back her hair falling over it. Na bi held her breath as he met her eye. "But I'm not interested in your body. Baring yourself to me like this.....I don’t want it."

Throwing his jacket around her shoulders, he stepped back, leaving her utterly confused and at a loss of words. Picking up her clothes from the floor, he handed it to her, in exchange for the glass in her hand, while his own one was barely touched.

"Good night Ms. Baek."

And with that he walked away, leaving Na bi with pieces she did not know how to collect.

“I did not see that coming.” Seokmin muttered as Na bi buried her face in her hands, every inch of her being still embarrassed. “I really thought it would work-”

“I told you.” Na bi spoke through gritted teeth. “I told you so, you didn’t listen to me-”

“I wasn’t entirely wrong, he did say he found you attractive-”

“He also said he wasn’t interested in me, you dumbass.” Na bi shook her fast. “God I can’t do this anymore. I don’t care if its the right thing to do or not, I’m just going to hand Mingyu the gun and get out of this as soon as I can-”

“Baek Na bi is giving up?”

“How am I supposed to face him again, Seokmin?” Na bi exploded. “Do you know how many times I have shamelessly thrown myself on this man? I can’t possibly go back there.”

“And what about Ana?” Seokmin reminded her. “I thought you were in it for Ana.”

At the mention of her name Na bi leaned back into her chair, sighing, staring at the ceiling.

“I am.” Running her hands through her hair frustrated she shook her head. “But I don’t know what to do now. I’ve searched the house, there’s nothing of value there. Mrs. Lee, Wonho, they're all too loyal to him to say anything. I haven’t seen a single other person there in days and him… I can’t get through to him, I can’t make him talk. There’s literally nothing left to do.”

“Didn’t you mention something about his headquarters?” Seokmin frowned like he was searching his memories.

“When he told me about Ana, he mentioned she turned up at his headquarters.” Na bi recalled the photo. “It must be the place where he operates from, where the rest of his men are and it probably has more answers but I couldn’t find it. I don’t know where it is and he’s obviously not going to tell me because for him, I’m a nobody-”

"You're not a nobody-"

“Lee Seokmin, did you not hear a word of what I had been ranting?” Na bi looked at him exasperated. “Clearly for him, I am nothing but a pitiable prey caught in this mess. I’m sick of trying to make you understand-”

"I got it. He finds you attractive but is not attracted to you, I got it but I don't think he sees you as just a helpless thing to protect.” Seokmin fiddled with the pen in his hands. “You've proven to him that you're intelligent enough to handle him. You dealt with his men following you, you figured his warehouse out in one go, you were dating a cop while you were treating him in your house for God's sake, so no, I don't think he, or anyone in his place would make the mistake of seeing you as a nobody, you're something Na bi. You just need to clearly establish what.”

Na bi frowned at Seokmin. “And what is that?”

“An ally.” He stated, like it was obvious. “IM definitely doesn't see you as an enemy, because you've never done anything that's of disadvantage to him but he also has no reason to see you as a friend so give him one. Show him you’re on his side, become an ally and gain his trust - maybe then you’ll find a way into these headquarters of his."

Na bi leaned back, eyebrows pulled together in thought. How on earth was she going to do that?

Slowly pushing open the door of Changkyun’s room, Na bi peered into the dimness as the sun began to set outside.

From what she could see he was not there - the place was uninhabited, the water wasn’t running either. As the calm and quiet of the room lulled her, she stepped in, taking a deep breath. Na bi knew she shouldn’t be entering his room when he wasn’t here but that was precisely why she was her. There was something important she had to do and she’d rather do it without having to see him - returning his gun.

A part of her told her this was an utterly stupid decision but another part knew it was a necessary move to make. If she had to gain his trust the way Seokmin suggested, she had to show him he could trust her, that she wasn’t acting against him in any way.

Looking for a paper to write him an explanatory note, Na bi shuffled through the sheets on his table only to yet again find dozens of maps of Seoul. Pushing them aside, she looked through the pages, recognising various places in the city, wondering why so many routes looked unfamiliar to her. When the door creaked behind her, Na bi didn’t hold her breath this time.

“Before you say anything, I…” Her words trailed away as the sound of the footsteps increased.

That was most definitely not Changkyun.

"And who do we have here?"

Freezing at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, Na bi glanced at the window before her, eyeing the slightly hazy reflection of a man who seemed to have striking blonde hair. Slowly turning she found herself at an arm's distance from a man who was yes, handsome, brawny, rugged but something about him was incredibly sinister, perhaps that golden canine that shone at the edge of his twisted smile. He too had donned a suit much like the ones Changkyun wore except there were stains of red on the white of his shirt. Blood.

"Looks like my little brother broke one of his rules."

Na bi raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know he had a brother.."

"He's as good as one.” The man clarified, leaning in. “But what might you be to him?"

“I’m..” Eyes tunneling on the scars of his fist, Na bi shook her head. “No one significant. Who are you-”

"Jooheon."

Na bi looked over the man’s built shoulder to see Changkyun who seemingly appeared out of nowhere, leaning against the doors of his room. A wave of relief washed over her; and a realization - yes her heartbeat quickened when Changkyun was around, she could never seem to find her breath in his presence, she was always on the edge when it came to him but never, not once, was she truly afraid of him. This man though, Jooheon was it? Something about his presence made her skin tingle with discomfort.

“Ms. Baek, I hope you can give me a minute.” Changkyun stepped back with a tilt of his head. “Jooheon was just leaving.”

“Looks like we’ll have to get acquainted another time, Ms. Baek.” The blonde man smirked at her with a small nod. “I look forward to it.”

“Likewise.” Na bi stared him down as he stepped out of the room, shutting its doors, giving her one last curious look.

Leaning against the table, moderately unnerved by the interaction, Na bi unzipped her hoodie, fanning herself. Changkyun’s world of shadows truly had dark things. Brushing it aside, she almost turned her attention back to the papers when her ear caught the sound of the muffled voices outside.

"I thought you don’t do business with Madame anymore. So whose is she?"

"Whose?"

A pause. A sigh. Then another pause.

"Mine."

Na bi felt something in her chest flutter.

"Yours? You mean you picked her from the streets?"

"She's not a whore Heon. I met her while we were searching for Ana. It's a long story-"

"Kyun-ah, you know better than me in these matters... was this.... was she your only option?"

"She's not an option.” The click of his lighter followed. “She's the only one."

Lips parted, Na bi stared at the brown oak of the doors. The only one.

“This whole deal with Ana ended up becoming a lot more problematic than we thought huh?”

Something about the silence told Na bi that Changkyun must have nodded.

"And the search for Hyungwon? Any leads?"

"I'm trying, my men are looking but unfortunately a lot of time goes in cleaning Minhyuk’s mess. Maybe if he got it together, I'd have more time for other things."

Jooheon made a disapproving noise. "I'll tell Shownu hyung to talk to him, he'll listen to him-"

"Don't. Not after all he's been through off late. Kihyun would be the better option right now."

"Kyun, you know Kihyun won't do anything for you."

Changkyun sighed, the annoyance apparent. "For the last time, I did not do it. First of all, arson is not my thing, and second, I know the rules. We keep women and children out of our fight. You know I never have and never will lay my hands on one."

Na bi's ears perked.

"Nothing’s been going right the last few months. How did we all end up like this?" Jooheon shuffled around. "What do your sources tell you? My gut instinct says that the cops are up to something."

Changkyun went quiet for a while, like he was lost in thought. "It can't be them. They don't have what it takes to stand against us. This is someone else.... someone smarter, someone more dangerous but don’t worry, I’ll find them.”

“I know you will just…. be careful, and her.” Na bi had a feeling she was the one being referred to here. “I hope she’s worth the trouble.”

To her slight disappointment, either Changkyun didn’t say anything or the muffled sounds of footsteps drowned out his response - either ways, before she knew it, the doors opened, to Changkyun alone this time.

“Ms. Baek.” Changkyun’s eyes flickered over the papers on his table behind her that had clearly been moved around. “I see you’ve found your way here in my absence yet again.”

“I meant to leave before you came.” Na bi held out the weapon in her hand. “I came to return this. You dropped it by the spring that night…..”

Changkyun stared at the revolver silently.

“You’re telling me, you found it, kept it with you all this while and you’re returning it now?”

Na bi blinked, mentally beating herself up for not considering the alternative to gaining Changkyun’s trust - facing his anger. Taking a small step back, she muttered softly. “I’m sorry.”

Changkyun looked at her, his eyes unreadable as usual but not blank - it was like too many things were flashing in them.

“Thank you.” He said finally, reaching for it, holding it like it was precious to him. “It would have broken me to part with it.”

Na bi watched his expression curiously, wondering why it held so much meaning for him. Slipping it into the pocket inside his jacket, he looked at her and Na bi immediately looked away, refusing to meet his eye

“I’ll go now-”

“I have something to return to you too.”

Na bi scrunched her eyebrows in confusion as he slid his hand into the other pocket, pulling out what looked a lot like a ring box. Eyes widening, jaw slightly dropping, she took a terrified step back. No, no, no, no-

And to her relief, it wasn’t even close to what she had pictured - Changkyun pulled out her necklace which he kept from her yesterday, dangling it before her. Inwardly sighing in relief, Na bi moved closer, reaching for it, when she noticed an additional charm added to her little collection - a small butterfly.

“My mother says they represent freedom.” He stared at it, the stones shining the light of the evening sun. “Your suspension will end in a few days, you’ll be gone soon - I figured it's a good parting gift.”

“Didn’t know parting gifts were a part of your security measures.” Na bi felt a strange bitter taste in her mouth. “I thought making sure I was safe is all you cared about.”

“Ms. Baek.” Changkyun shifted, realizing where the hostility was coming from. “If this is about what I said yesterday-”

“See this is the issue.” Na bi pointed out. “What you say and what you do, don’t align and it’s driving me crazy. I’m tired of trying to make sense of it by myself so I’m going to ask you clearly once and for all.” Na bi finally looked him straight in the eye. “What are we?”

Changkyun stared at her in silence as she continued.

“We’re not unfamiliar enough to be strangers, we’re not familiar enough to be partners, we’re not against each other to be enemies,” She sighed. “Are we at least…I don’t know, friends?”

“Friends?” Changkyun raised an eyebrow before softly shaking his head. “No Ms. Baek, we are not friends. And I’m not interested in being one either.”

“Repeat that.”

Na bi sighed, rolling her eyes, repeating for the second time. “No Ms. Baek, we are not friends and I’m not interested in being one either.”

“What did you reply?” Seokmin egged, knowing the exact answer.

“And I’m not interested in being your charity case either.”

“And you walked off and didn’t take your necklace.”

“I walked off and didn’t take my necklace.” She confirmed, leaning back into her chair.

“Why not though, it belongs to you anyway-”

“I don’t give a fuck about that necklace Seokmin.” She did but that was not the point now. “The point is, I’m never going to be able to gain his trust, I’m never going to be able to get anything out of him. We are back to where we began.”

“Well I guess alternatively-”

“No, I'm done taking suggestions from you.” Na bi snapped at Seokmin who instantly shut up. “For a change, I already have a plan in mind.” She fiddled with her hands on her lap. “Did Mingyu reply to you?”

Seokmin checked his phone again and shook his head. “He said he’ll be here in 10. But that was almost 15 minutes ago.”

Na bi clicked her tongue impatiently, tapping her feet away. The moment she came to the hospital, she rushed to find Seokmin and urgently grabbed the phone from his hands, sending Mingyu a much needed cryptic message. Just as she wondered if she was being too vague and attempted to clarify what she wanted, Mingyu replied that he would see her in the hospital in 10. Making use of the gap, Na bi filled Seokmin in with the details of the interaction last night, causing him to wrack his brain with the exact confusion she had been going through for weeks now.

“So here’s what we know.” Seokmin began counting on his fingers. “He finds you attractive but is not attracted to you. He doesn’t see you as a friend but also doesn’t see you as an enemy but also is extremely protective of you but also doesn’t care enough to ever make conversation with you but also indulges in games involving stripping but also doesn’t even look at you in said game but also makes sweet and thoughtful gestures and is also incredibly hurtful with his words.” Seokmin finally took a much needed breath. “What is this man?”

Na bi looked at him with an expression that clearly said, ‘welcome to my world’

“There’s no point thinking about him anymore.” She shook her head with resolve. “I’ve exhausted all possible options and now I’m going to take my last shot at this.”

“And what is that?”

“This.”

Na bi turned to the sound of Mingyu’s voice, finding him standing by the door, a vial of colorless liquid placed on his outstretched hand. Na bi got up, slightly panicking that he had caught her right in the middle of doing the one thing she was asked not to - disclose any details of this mission to anyone.

“Mingyu you’re here.” Walking up to him, she tried to pointlessly cover Seokmin’s presence by standing in his line of vision. “I thought we’d meet at the storage room, like last time-”

“That would perhaps be troublesome for you, considering you’ll need to fill in Seokmin about our conversation once it’s done.”

Na bi opened her mouth to deny? justify? apologize? Whatever it was, Mingyu didn’t want to hear it. “I’m not complaining Na bi, it's unfair to not let you have a confidant during such a difficult mission.”

Seokmin, who tried his best to seem invisible, sank further in his chair as Mingyu walked in, settling down on a nearby couch. Eyes flickering between the two men, Na bi leaned against the wall as an awkward silence descended in the room.

Before Na bi could break it, Mingyu beat her to it.

“I was hoping we could have met in the NIS safehouse instead.” Mingyu looked at her impassively. “Jihoon wants to talk and we’ve also arranged for a professional to do IM’s sketch.”

“I can’t go there.” Na bi shook her head. “His men are always around me, they’re always watching. The only reason I’m able to meet either of you is because this is a staff only area of the hospital and the only people allowed to be here unauthorized are, well, cops.”

Tearing his eyes away from her, Mingyu stared at the tiles of the floor. “So you won’t come.”

“I can’t.” Na bi corrected. “As long as I’m with him I can’t come to you.”

Mingyu’s jaw tightened in a way that Na bi had never seen before. He seemed annoyed, angry even, constantly fidgeting with his hands.

“Mingyu, are you okay?”

He looked up at her confused face and let out a deep breath. “Yeah I’m fine. I brought what you asked for.” He added, placing the vial on the couch beside him. “I had to break about 50 odd organization rules to get this so I hope it’s worth it to you.”

Na bi walked up to him, picking up the serum, holding it against the light. It struck her as she was pacing up and down her room last night, thinking hard about what to do next - if she were to get anything out of Changkyun, there was no way it could be by will, so the only choice she had was chemical coercion - the NIS’s truth serum.

As Na bi attempted to grab her bag to keep it away safely, Mingyu held her hand.

“I hate that you’re with him.” He confessed, his thumb running across the back of her hand. “Na bi, I might have come into your life for the sake of this mission but what you and I shared, that was real. And I don’t know why but the more time passes, it feels like you are slipping away from me so, please,” He looked up at her, eyes sad. “Just, finish this soon and come back to me.”

“I….” Na bi’s lips parted with a loss of words. Where was this coming from? “Mingyu, you and I…. I haven’t….“ She glanced at Seokmin who looked like he wanted the Earth to split into two and swallow him just so he could be anywhere but here.“I’ll do my best to get done with this as soon as I can, okay? Just don’t think too much.”

Mingyu nodded, not entirely convinced, but enough to drop the topic. “Take this as well.” He pulled out a neatly wrapped parcel, placing it in the middle of her palm. “It’s a new phone, it’ll be of use.”

“There’s no signal where he lives. I won’t be able to call, you won’t be able to track me-”

“It’s got a functioning camera.” Mingyu finally let her go, leaning back into the softness of the couch. “It might be suspicious for you to capture his face on it but you can take pictures of any other useful information.”

“What kind of useful information?” Na bi raised her eyebrows confused. “I thought you what you wanted was his gun?”

“And do you have it?”

Na bi blinked at him rapidly before shaking her head too quickly. If Mingyu caught on to her lie, she couldn’t tell.

Rubbing his temple Mingyu sighed. “We were wrong to think it was enough to find implicating evidence against him - it would be like we learnt nothing from the last time.”

Na bi and Seokmin exchanged a look.

“The more important thing is to take down Tartarus so you were doing the right way. You should focus on finding more information like where his headquarters are, how to identify his men, things of that sort.”

Na bi frowned at him, “Why the sudden change of heart? I mean, till two days back you had a different opinion.”

“Let’s just say we have our own confidants to discuss things with.” Mingyu got up, shooting Seokmin a cold look. “And they had a different say.”

Na bi crossed her arms, mind racing with thoughts as Mingyu grabbed his bag from the floor and dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Take care.”

The moment he left Na bi turned to Seokmin, walking up to the window behind him.“Do you think he overheard us that day? Why does it feel like he’s parroting the conversation we had?”

Seokmin shrugged. “Maybe he did, it would explain why he looks so devastated-”

“He did seem off.” Na bi muttered.

“Yes Na bi ‘off’ is the word one would use to describe men hopelessly in love.” Seokmin rolled his eyes. “He’s so blatant and explicit about his want for you, what’s keeping you from him?”

Staring at the grass outside, she peeled the skin of her fingers painfully.

“He’s handsome, makes good conversation, is fun to date and I don’t know maybe he’s a good fuck too…”

“But?” Seokmin leaned back. “I sense a ‘but’ coming.”

“But I don’t want him, not in the way he thinks he wants me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Seokmin, what does Mingyu even know about me?” Na bi turned to him. “My life, my past, experiences that define me, things that terrify me… he doesn’t know me at all. What Mingyu wants is the idea of me - the epic story of two people who save the world and drive off into the sunset. What he wants is a storybook, happy ending and I don’t believe in that kind of love.”

“You don’t believe in any kind of love.”

“Which is exactly why this conversation is redundant.”

“Life cannot be based just on superficial attachments Na bi, how long will you live life from one good fuck to another?”

“Which is also why I hate having these conversations with you.” Na bi sighed, exasperated. “You love love Seokmin, congratulations, good for you. I, on the other hand, don’t want it because I don’t believe in it. Why is that so problematic for you-”

“Because it’s not love that you don’t believe in.” Seokmin stood up, standing by her side. “You don’t believe you’re worthy of it.”

Na bi continued to stare out of the window, watching Mingyu finally make his way out of the hospital, walking towards his bike. He met her eye as he got on, giving her the familiar sweet smile that was missing all this while.

“I don’t know what exactly it is Na bi, but I know you carry a weight that’s only gotten heavier over time. I can only hope you find someone who can share that burden with you.” Seokmin put his arm around her, rubbing softly as Mingyu drove off. “You deserve to love and be loved.”

“Na bi!”

Na bi turned at the sound of Mrs. Lee’s loud voice, halting in the middle of the living room.

“I’ve been calling out to you for so long, where are you lost?”

Na bi blinked, lost. From the moment she had left Seokmin’s office she had been distracted by her own thoughts. By Seokmin’s words to be more precise.

“Nothing, I was just….” She walked over to the kitchen. “Thinking about something.”

“You’re back early today.”

“I didn’t have much to do.” She confessed sliding onto the counter, earning a disapproving click of the tongue from the older woman. “I’m going to miss being this relaxed from next week.”

“Feels like you were barely here and you’re going to leave already.” Mrs. Lee smiled at her sadly. “I’m going to feed you well before you go back to the horrible instant noodle life of yours. Tell me all your favorites.”

“Not the master's favorite?” Na bi feigned shock, earning a small laugh from the other lady.

“I always make my master’s favorite.” She pointed at the jug Na bi hadn’t noticed beside her, filled with a pink liquid. Na bi gulped, remembering the drink Mingyu had bought during their first meeting in the bar. The one laced with the truth serum. The serum that was in her bag at this moment, waiting to be used.

Desperate to divert her mind, she shook her head. “I’m sorry but that does not look even a little appetizing.”

“It’s healthy.”

Na bi turned at the sound of Changkyun’s voice, eyes falling on him at the edge of the kitchen, dressed in his usual attire, looking at her. Na bi looked away, focusing on Mrs. Lee instead as she scurried around to find glasses and fill them with the pink juice.

“I don’t want that Mrs. Lee, I prefer or….” Na bi trailed away as Changkyun walked up to her, a glass of orange juice in his hand held out to her. She ignored him for a rough minute and when he still didn’t move away, Na bi took it and set on the counter beside her without another word. Changkyun continued to look at her impassively until he didn’t anymore, reaching for his own glass, downing the drink in one go and muttering a small ‘thanks Mrs. Lee’ before walking away. It was only when she heard the sound of the main door close that she relaxed.

“Did you two fight?” Mrs. Lee peered at her curiously.

“What makes you think so?”

Mrs. Lee placed her hands on her hips. “You weren’t talking to him.”

“I’m not interested in talking to him.” Na bi mumbled, tracing the rim of the glass with her finger. “It’s not like anything worthwhile comes out of his mouth.”

Mrs. Lee gave a heavy pause before she sighed.

“He really does look out for you, you know?” Na bi looked up at the housekeeper's concerned face. “To be cared for by a man like him, it’s truly fortunate.”

Na bi scoffed. “I find it hard to believe that a man like him is even capable of caring.” She picked up the glass, wincing at its cold exterior. “How can someone who is engaged in the kind of business he does even fathom basic human emotions?”

Mrs. Lee shook her head like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Na bi’s eyes followed her as the older woman slipped off her apron and poured herself a glass of juice.

“Do you know I have a son Na bi?” Mrs. Lee confessed suddenly, taking Na bi aback. “I don’t live with him, I haven’t in almost 12 years. Do you know why?”

Na bi shook her head slowly.

“Because the love I saw in this house…it was like none other.” Leaning back against the counter, Mrs. Lee stared off at a distance. “Do you even know what love is like at its purest and rawest? Have you ever seen a love that’s so deep, it physically hurts to be away from them? The kind of love where your soul desperately craves for another’s presence? Where you’re ready to burn the world or be burned if it means protecting them?” Eyes moist, Mrs. Lee looked at her. “That’s the kind of love Changkyun had and that’s the kind of love he has to give.”

Na bi recalled Mrs. Lee mentioning her mistress. Something painfully clenched in her chest.

“In the 30 years I’ve worked here, I saw the most beautiful kind of love in this family. Master’s love for his sisters. His father’s love for his mother. The parents’ love for their children - I’ve never seen anything like what this family shared. That’s why when he was the only one left, even if it meant putting aside everything that was dear to me, I could not bear to leave him alone.”

Lips parting in realization, Na bi remembered Changkyun telling her about the scar on his eyebrow. About how he got it when his family was killed.

“I try but I don’t think I can ever fill the void he’s been living with. I’ve seen him hanging on to the smallest testaments of the past just to feel that love once again. Using the lighter that belonged to his father, carrying that revolver which hasn’t worked in years only because his sisters gifted it to him. Sometimes I find him just sitting in his mother’s room, staring at her thing things, wiping the dust off them-”

“His mother’s room?” Na bi interrupted, mind backtracking. “Do… do you mean the one upstairs?”

Mrs. Lee nodded.

“You mean to say that…” Na bi shook her head in confusion. “That room is his mother’s? Those dresses were his mother’s, the person you referred to as mistress is…. His mother?”

Mrs. Lee nodded again like it was obvious.

“And all this while I thought….I thought you meant an old lover or…”

“Lover?” Mrs. Lee scoffed. “The only woman Changkyun ever loved is his mother.” Na bi let out a deep breath as the older lady smiled at her sadly. “Her name was Na bi too.”

Next Chapter

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key-to-the-shadow · 1 year

Text

Spin the Bottle

Spin the Bottle ~ Oneshot (Eddie Vedder X Fem!Reader)

♫ tropes: brothers best friend

♫ warnings: use of Y/N and predetermined last name (poncier pronounced pawn-see-a), not proof read

♫ a/n: loosely based on the movie 'singles', 1992 eddie

Masterlist

-----

Cum On Feel the Noize was playing from a record player in the far corner of the living room.

The boys and I chugged bottles of beer, each of us racing to be the first to finish the distasteful liquid. I never liked beer very much but I still felt like I needed to win.

It was a typical Saturday night. My brother, his band, a few other friends, and I all sat around drinking beer, eating pizza, and playing some sort of game. There was always some kind of fuss about what to play since Cliff never wanted to play anything fun like spin the bottle.

But Cliff wasn't here tonight. I was the first to suggest spin the bottle and the group quickly agreed.

I slammed my glass on the ground that we all sat in a circle on. "Fuck yeah," I cheered as I noticed I was the first one to finish. "I win." I got no response until other people began to set their bottles on the ground as well.

We'd made a deal that whoever drinks first is immune from spinning the bottle first. Whoever finishes last has to go first.

I surveyed who still had the beer. It was a race between Debbie Hunt, a neighbor of ours, and Eddie, my brother's best friend who also happened to be the drummer of their band. Citizen Dick.

Debbie let out a shrill laugh as she slammed her glass on the ground, her ginger hair bouncing with her movements.

"Eddie's off his game tonight," Stone, another member of the band, said with a mocking tone.

The brunette rolled his eyes as he set down the cheap glass of now-empty beer. He'd played it off as being off his game but in reality, I was sure he lost on purpose. At the beginning of every band practice, they all shotgunned beers to get into 'the right mindset' and Eddie always finished his first.

Eddie's ring-clad fingers gripped the glass bottle, preparing to spin it. The glass rattled against the dark wooden floor. As its momentum slowed down, my heart pounded in my ears.

Eddie was always attractive to me but I was positive the fact that my brother would kill me for even thinking that made him all the more alluring. Eddie and my brother had known each other since they were kids and even moved into apartments right next to each other. The thing was, I still lived with my brother. Being a musician in Seattle wasn't something that paid a whole lot.

There had been a few times I'd wondered if Eddie thought anything of me like that. One of my three jobs was working at a dive bar that featured live music. My brother and his band often played there so I helped them set up whenever I could.

"Y/N," Eddie had called from the wings of the stage before the bar had opened. I came in early to help them set up but by now, most of it was done. "Mind sound-checking the set?"

"Eds, you know I don't play drums," I reminded him that I only sang and kicked around on the guitar on occasion. "I don't know what it's supposed. to sound like."

A soft 'oh' came from backstage before I heard footsteps skip up to the stage. Eddie was wearing a loose white tank with a brown flannel and torn-up jeans. His hair was pulled into a messy bun at the nape of his neck.

The rest of the band had gone to grab some dinner at a nearby restaurant before the gig and left Eddie to hold down the fort, promising to bring him back a sandwich.

It was just the two of us.

"Here, I'll show you," He said as he approached the set. "Sit." He took the drumsticks and pointed to the black throne.

I sat down on the cushioned seat and took the light wooden sticks that he passed to me.

He told me to hit the snare drum a couple times and he fiddled with the key until he was satisfied. Then moved to the kick and floor tom until he told me to play a fill along all the drums.

I looked behind me, ready to repeat that I don't know how to play the drums before he interrupted me.

"Like this." He remarked as he wrapped his arms around me from behind. His hands found mine. "Loosen up, Poncier," He joked, using my last name as he often did when he made fun of me. My face heated at the words and I did my best to relax as he guided my hands across the toms. I could feel his warm breath on my neck. If I were to turn my head to the left the slightest bit, our lips would've been inches from each other. It took all I could not to move to the left.

It was horribly off-beat but he just needed the sound for turning reasons.

We weren't doing anything wrong. But it was tense enough to the point that if I knew if Cliff walked through the doors at this moment, we would have to persuade him to believe that we weren't doing anything like that.

His hands stayed on mine for longer than they should have but not long enough to the point either of us mentioned it. He let his arms drop away from me and I felt cold without his chest pressed against my back.

He cleared his throat. "Let me know if you ever want a drum lesson."

I never took him up on the drum lesson even though I wanted to. I wanted that feeling of his closeness again but I was scared of Cliff and what he would do.

My thoughts were cleared away as the glass bottle began to slow down. My heart pounded as it got slower and slower and inched closer and closer to me.

When it came to a halt, my breath seemed to vanish. The bottle was staring at me and so was Eddie. He was sitting directly across from me in the circle.

All of the guys started laughing and nudging Eddie while the girls sat with amused smirks on their faces.

I didn't know what to do. Do I move? Does he? Eventually, Eddie stands up and walks over to me. The only thing running through my mind was that Eddie Vedder was about to kiss me and there was no doubt in my mind that Cliff's situationship, Janet, would tell him. She knew how protective Cliff was of me and she also knew that he wouldn't find it funny that I kissed Eddie even if it was for a game.

I felt her eyes dig into the side of my head but I refused to look at her. I kept my jaw clenched and braced myself when Eddie got down on the floor in front of me. I'd rejected moving so he had to come to where I was.

"You nervous?" Eddie asked with a snarky tone, barely above a whisper. It was the kind of voice he used when he was joking with me but now it felt as if he was edging me on.

"No," I lied.

A smirk graced his lips as he brought a hand to my hair, grazing my neck with his fingers. I didn't know what to do with my hands so I placed them on his chest as he leaned forward. I clung to the graphic tee he was wearing as our lips collided.

His lips were rough but the feeling of them on mine was euphoric. He pulled away shortly after, not wanting to make a scene. The hesitation before he broke the contact made my thoughts whirl with what if's.

Why did he hesitate?

If this was just a kiss for a game, why would he hesitate?

Cheers erupted around us as the boys immaturely hollered. Eddie's hand fell away from its grip on my hair and I let go of his shirt, letting him return back to his place at the circle.

#eddie vedder #eddie vedder x reader #vedder x reader #pearl jam #pearl jam fanfiction #soundgarden #eddie vedder fanfiction #brothers best friend trope #x reader #oneshot #pearljam one shot #eddie vedder one shot

46 notes · View notes

jebewonmorelike · 9 months

Text

✰⋆⁺ Steal Your Heart ⁺⋆✰

*ੈ Part Three: The Magician ♡ Han Yujin

♡ Steal Your Heart Masterlist

♡ Read this Introductory Post and the Masterlist for details!

♡ Read Part One, Part Two (Gyuvin), and Part Three (Jiwoong) Here!

˚☽˚｡⋆ Steal Your Heart: An Interactive Fanfiction Game

... Collect Points to Determine Your Love Interest and Special Ending!!

⁺⋆✰ wc: 9.5k (sorry it took so long but i had panic attacks for a month straight. pls enjoy, i know the chapters just get longer. sorry. i promise they're good though!)

⁺⋆✰ reader-insert pronouns: none used; n/a -- reader is the 10th member of AU ZB1, but the group is referred to only as an "idol" group. no mentions or descriptions of gender of reader.

⁺⋆✰ chapter warnings: crime (reader was wrongfully convicted of a crime), swearing, injury/vague descriptions of blood, suggestion of a drinking problem, mild violence, angst, the choice *ugh, fine* is for kids only (light yujin romance), and lots of really funny and insane shenanigans! all ages welcome; pg-13+ themes.

⁺⋆✰ summary: for series summary click here. jiwoong, gyuvin, and (y/n) are now fully awakened to their powers in the metaverse, confronting their company's president head-on as the fate of au!zb1 lies in their hands. youngest member of zb1, han yujin, has been enjoying his time at university during the group's hiatus. what happens when a wrench is thrown into his plans? inspired by the jrpg persona 5.

⁺⋆✰ please download the scoresheet for the game here!

・゜゜ . . * ✧･ﾟ・ ✧･ﾟ: ・゜゜・．

Welcome back, Player! Get your scoresheet ready-- are you ready to start the fourth installment of our game? Soon we'll get to see how your Chapter Choice from Part Three plays out! Remember to tally your points on your scoresheet! I think it's time we heard from our youngest member, don't you agree?

JUNE 21st -- AFTERNOON

Yujin had begged Manager Sang to let him miss today’s company meeting. He assumed they’d just be receiving more vaguely discouraging news from President Kim like they usually did every few weeks, so what was the point of going anyway?

Total Control were just counting down the days until ZeroBaseOne’s contracts expired at this point. That way they could finally pawn off Gunwook and himself to the highest bidding company for re-debut and push Hao as fully a soloist.

But after a semester exploring an incredible gift of an opportunity he had been given, Yujin wasn’t even sure if he wanted to redebut anymore.

From the start, Yujin had only wanted to be in ZeroBaseOne. He was barely in high school when Total Control’s survival show changed his life forever. His members became his friends and often his parents-by-proxy. Obviously, he didn’t need that sort of coddling anymore, but it never stopped them from pinching his cheeks and cooing at him affectionately as he seethed.

Despite his annoying members and the indefinite hiatus of the group, Yujin could imagine less and less having an idol career separate from the incredibly dysfunctional family you all had formed throughout the years.

But the inherent need to dance still called unshakably to him. And that’s where attending university had swooped in to save him…

When Yujin auditioned for the Dance Performance major at the Korean National University of Arts in the winter, he’d been automatically waitlisted. It broke his heart, but he ultimately knew he wouldn’t have been able to afford university anyway-- what with the debt he owed the company continuing to pile up and all.

No work, no pay. For anyone.

Manager Sang had somehow caught word of this and held a meeting with the upper management of Total Control right away. When President Kim called Yujin into his executive office the following week and told him that the company would pay his university tuition if he eventually passed the Dance Performance major audition, the youngest member of ZeroBaseOne was shocked.

He’d always thought of President Kim as a bit of a blowhard, so this seemingly benevolent opportunity left him a bit shaken. So shaken that Yujin could barely focus on reading or interpreting the lengthy contract shoved immediately in front of him.

Luckily, Manager Sang was there to explain it to him and, after assuring he found no pitfalls in it, Yujin shakily signed his name on the dotted line in a happy daze.

That had been the only good news Yujin had received from the company since your... accident. So he almost threw up from whiplash after President Kim announced half an hour ago in the company boardroom that all ZeroBaseOne members (the ones not currently serving time for a felony, of course) would start preparing for a comeback by the start of next week.

Yujin had come straight to the company after his calculus exam that afternoon feeling positive that his efforts had yielded him good results. There had been no doubt in his mind that he’d ace his audition for the Dance Performance department after the meeting at Total Control, but a full hyperventilation episode in the bathroom later has Yujin currently sprinting down the street-- three minutes late for his audition appointment.

“Han Yujin-sshi?” A feminine voice is calling as Yujin nearly collapses into the university’s main auditorium. The tone of the voice suggests that it’s called his name several times already. Yujin bows furiously in apology at the judges’ panel as he runs down the aisle, throwing his duffel bag down haphazardly on a theater seat and unlacing his shoes like he’s gunning for a world record.

He clambers up onto the stage, gulping when he suddenly remembers how big the auditorium is-- something that would never have bothered him a year ago. Yujin had been practicing almost every night for at least nine weeks with Hanbin at his dance studio, perfecting his audition routine until there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he would make the cut.

Yujin had pulled an all-nighter studying for his calculus final last night, but Hanbin had reassured him that he had nothing to worry about.

“You know what you have to do,” Hanbin said, running his hand through Yujin’s hair fondly. “Nothing’s gonna get in the way of this between now and tomorrow. Believe in yourself. You’re a shoe-in.”

Hanbin could never have predicted the news they’d received this afternoon and the pained look in his eyes from across the conference room said it all.

“I am new student, Han Yujin,” he introduces himself a bit robotically to the panel of six judges in front of him. He knows a couple of them from his elective dance classes this past semester, but most of the other judges are higher-ups in the department that he’d only seen at his previous failed audition. There’s a wave of nausea in Yujin’s stomach and he quietly swallows it down. “I am eighteen years old and I have been dancing since I was in middle school. I’m grateful for the opportunity to display my skills to the judges and I will work hard to be a member of the Dance Performance school.”

Yujin waits for the music to start in his opening stance but when it doesn’t, he realizes there’s whispering coming from the judges’ table.

“Excuse me, Han Yujin-sshi,” a rather stern-looking older man that Yujin doesn’t recognize calls out to him. The hopeful student brings his arms back to his side, nodding compliantly at him. “Are you the idol Han Yujin?”

Yujin bows quickly. “Yes, sir. I am Han Yujin of idol group ZeroBaseOne.”

“I see,” the older man replies, whispering something to the woman beside him before meeting Yujin’s gaze again. “I’ve heard your group has made quite the mess of yourselves. I’m surprised you admitted to your membership under these circumstances, but I respect the honesty nonetheless. Please continue with your performance, Han Yujin-sshi.”

The audition is a blur. The music comes on and Yujin performs his routine, but his mind is everywhere but the auditorium. Instead, he’s thinking about the judge’s comments, Hanbin’s look of pity across the boardroom, the air in his lungs that never seems like it’s enough, the thought of not being able to go to university anymore...

The monthly envelopes of cash that his parents have to send him so that he can eat...

The otherworldly roar of the crowd only a little over a year ago when ZeroBaseOne performed a sold-out encore show at the Skydome...

The bloodcurdling sound of you screaming your lungs out wafting all the way to the police station waiting room as you plead your innocence...

“Thank you, Yujin-sshi. We’ll look forward to seeing your continued improvement at our next audition.”

JUNE 21st -- EVENING

Yujin stands outside the door of your dorm building, stuck ruminating about whether or not to go inside. On one hand, if he went inside he’d have to tell everyone about his failure. But on the other hand, he could go to sleep in his perfect, warm bed and (hopefully) never wake up.

He takes a deep breath. Maybe he could avoid everyone if he just kept his head down and made a beeline straight to his room.

Yujin opens the door, ready to make a run for it when he comes face to face with…

Let's find out the effects of your Chapter Choice for Part Three, Player! To refresh your memory, Choice 1 was to make Jiwoong do Lots of Aegyo while Choice 2 was to request A Kiss.

⁺⋆✰ If You Chose “LOTS OF AEGYO”:

“You—,” Jiwoong stutters, taking a step back. “You wouldn’t. You couldn’t.”

“I can,” you affirm with an evil smile. “And I will. And I’ll also film it and make you post it.”

“But… But I have a reputation to uphold!” Jiwoong protests, running his hands through his hair in anguish.

“Do you?” You and Gyuvin snort at the same time.

“Oh, shut up,” Jiwoong spits, shaking his head in disbelief. “Why couldn’t you have asked me to, like… make your bed… or… I dunno, like, kiss you or something?”

“WhAt,” you squeak. “Why would I ask you to kiss me?”

“I dunno, you probably can’t get anyone else to,” Jiwoong replies with a shrug, his ears turning crimson. “Okay, can we just get on with the aegyo?”

“Yeah, can we?” Gyuvin seconds with a huff.

“Yeah… Yeah, okay,” you agree, pulling out your phone and opening the camera app. “Can you do a cheek poke?”

Jiwoong sulks, puffing out his cheek and poking it with his index finger. He looks like a depressed toddler. You take a pic.

“Uh, how about a finger heart?” Gyuvin suggests with a shrug as he stares at Jiwoong like his hyung has three heads.

Jiwoong makes a finger heart with his right hand, positioning it in front of his face as he continues to frown.

“Can you just f*cking lighten up for a second?” You ask, lowering your phone. “Is it that hard? Do I need to physically force you to look happy?”

“Happiness wasn’t part of the deal,” Jiwoong replies with a smirk, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“No, no, no, no— get those hands out of your pockets! I’m not done with you!” You shout, walking over to Jiwoong and prying both of his hands back into the open. You form a ‘C’ with each of his hands and stick them to each of his cheeks. “Ohhhh, soooo cute Jiwoongie!”

Jiwoong is placated as he stares back at you, doe-eyed as you take a picture. It’s as good as you’re gonna get.

You send it to him and then grab his phone from his hands, making sure he opens Instagram to post it. Once you hand it back to him, you watch attentively as he types a caption and posts the aegyo picture.

“Aren’t you just the cutest baby boy in the whole world?” You tease as Jiwoong turns red again, rubbing it in as much as possible while you have the opportunity. “Jiwoongie is sooo adorable, I could just. Eat. Him. Right. Up.”

Your bond with Jiwoong has grown stronger. +0 Jiwoong Point.

・゜゜ . . * ✧･ﾟ・ ✧･ﾟ: ・゜゜・．

⁺⋆✰ If You Chose “A KISS”:

“A WHAT!?” Gyuvin shouts, your hand flying to cover his mouth. You definitely don’t need to attract the attention of anyone else in the dorm right now. Still, your tallest friend continues to protest, “MMWHHMM!”

Jiwoong just blinks at you, eyes widening a bit in nervous surprise. “Are you—… are you serious?”

Gyuvin’s hand closes around yours, prying it off of his mouth. “I’d f*cking love to hear the answer to that question as well, actually.”

“Well, I know it’s a large price to pay and might even be too much to ask in exchange for joining the Phantom Thieves,” you explain, glaring at Gyuvin as he slowly catches on. “Clearly, Jiwoong is shocked and disgusted by this proposition so—.”

“I am?” Jiwoong interrupts.

“Yes! Exactly! You are,” you agree enthusiastically, not realizing that Jiwoong’s statement had actually been a question. “So it seems like you aren’t going to be able to join the Phantom Thieves after all! Oh noooo! This is terrible news. But since you really don’t want to kiss me—.”

“Who said I don’t wanna kiss you, (Y/N)?” Jiwoong interrupts again, a dangerous smirk now turning up one corner of his lips. “Would be a lot more fun than listening to the two of you keep yapping.”

You’re silent, suddenly aware of the possibility you might be caught in your own trap. Jiwoong’s arms fold across his chest— one eyebrow arching smugly. Even though he had spent the better part of a year ignoring you and talking about you behind your back, you should’ve known that Jiwoong would somehow still be down to kiss you.

He’s down to kiss everyone.

“In fact, the only one who said I don’t wanna kiss you, is you,” Jiwoong continues, taking a step towards you. “And how funny is it that you’re the one who suggested it in the first place? Maybe you’ve been thinking about kissing me this whole time.”

“That’s enough, hyung,” Gyuvin warns, large hand resting on Jiwoong’s shoulder. “We’ll just pick something else.”

As Gyuvin starts to turn you back around to discuss a different price, Jiwoong suddenly pipes up.

“W-wait! Wait. Just wait a minute,” he says, both hands extended in front of him. This is not the stance of someone with the upperhand. “You… you already picked the price! N-no take backs! Yeah, I said it. Get over here and kiss me, (Y/N).”

“I can do literally whatever I want to actually,” you respond with a shrug. “And now that you made fun of me, I’m gonna make the price MUCH worse now.”

“NO! No, (Y/N), please,” Jiwoong begs, closing the distance between you as he places his hands on both of your shoulders and shakes them. “Just let me kiss you! PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, LET ME KISS YOU!”

You have to admit, it’s a pretty nice ego stroke to have Jiwoong desperate to kiss you. Not to mention, he does look a lot more handsome when he’s not esophagus-deep in a drunken bar hook-up.

A lot more like himself, too.

You lean in.

Closer.

Even closer.

And place the teensiest, tiniest peck on Jiwoong’s pretty, pink lips.

Your bond with Jiwoong has grown stronger. +1 Jiwoong Point. Please add +1 Jiwoong Point to your scoresheet.

“Oh my god,” Gyuvin says.

“Oh my god,” Jiwoong says.

“Oh my god,” you say.

・゜゜ . . * ✧･ﾟ・ ✧･ﾟ: ・゜゜・．

All Continue Reading Below

“Remind me to apply for on-campus living next semester,” Yujin huffs with disgust, dropping his duffel bag in the middle of the hallway.

“Yujin-ah!” Gyuvin exclaims, you and Jiwoong jumping back to find your youngest member standing hollow-eyed at the floor. “How—… how long have you been standing there, buddy?”

Yujin shrugs. “I dunno, a minute or so.”

Sh*t. There’s literally no way he hadn’t just heard you speak. The three of you wait in silence for the youngest to comment on it.

“If you’re waiting for me to congratulate you about getting your voice back,” Yujin says, eyes glued to the floor, “I literally could not give a flying f*ck about it.”

You breathe a collective sigh of relief. Indifference was usually what you could expect from Yujin and, though it hurts you most of the time, you couldn’t be more grateful for it right now.

“So… you won’t tell anyone about it?” You request, smiling sweetly at your maknae.

“Whatever,” Yujin replies with a roll of his eyes. You’re fairly certain you can interpret this angsty teenager response to mean something like ‘okay’.

The door flies open, a panicked Hanbin scrambling through and into the hallway. “HOWDIDITGOWEREYOULATEAFTERTHEMEETINGWEREYOUTOOUPSETTOPERFORMWELLDIDYOUMAKEITINTOTHEPROGRAM?”

F*ck. Yujin’s audition was today. You instantly feel bad for forgetting.

Yujin shakes his head back and forth just once. So that’s why he was being extra mopey and aloof. He’d worked so hard. Poor thing.

You all sit in the awkward air until Hanbin finally says, “There’s beef marinating in the fridge. I’ll go cook it.”

“BEEF,” Gyuvin yells, pumping his fist up to the sky triumphantly. You grab his arm and force it back down to his side, trying your best to be mindful of Yujin’s feelings. It’s too little too late though and Yujin lets out a long sigh before walking off down the hallway to his room.

“Do you have kimchi?” Jiwoong calls as Hanbin traipses off to the kitchen. “I think you should check if there’s any kimchi left. Someone might have… eaten it for lunch… or something.”

“All of it!? I bought that big container two days ago,” Hanbin calls back. “You and Gyuvin go buy some then! (Y/N), can you come help me, please?”

You start to make your way to the kitchen, but a large hand on your shoulder stops you. Gyuvin’s lips are pressed together nervously as he blinks back at you. “Oh um, (Y/N)? There’s something I need to tell you before--.”

“C’mon! Whatever it is, it can wait. Kimchi can not,” Jiwoong hurries, grabbing Gyuvin and pulling your best friend out the door behind him.

“So, what happened at the company meeting today?” The robotic voice of your phone screenreader rings out, cutting through the sizzling of oil in the skillet pan.

The piece of meat that Hanbin’s holding falls from his hand and splashes back into the bowl of bulgogi marinade. He fishes it back out without looking up at you, calmly replying, “Oh, it was just a regular meeting.”

You nod, aware that Hanbin’s lying to you but unsure as to why. You type again and hit play: “Why would Yujin have gotten ‘upset’ after ‘just a regular meeting’?”

Hanbin places another strip of beef into the skillet, turning up the heat. “Can you get more vegetable oil, please? There’s a new bottle in the hallway closet.”

You press your lips together, walking out of the kitchen and to the hallway closet. You open the door, locating the unopened bottle of oil on the third shelf when a series of buzzes in your pocket grabs your attention.

“(Y/N), can you hurry?” Hanbin calls from the kitchen. “I need to put more in now!”

Buzz, buzz. Buzz, buzz. Buzz, buzz.

It seems urgent. And vaguely Canadian.

Mini-Decision: Would you rather be Hanbin’s Helper or reply to those Matt-sterious Texts?

If you chose "Hanbin's Helper", read below:

You shrug, deciding the texts will have to wait for this moment. If someone was dying, then maybe it was just their time.

Running back to the kitchen with the vegetable oil bottle, you toss it to Hanbin who lets out a little panicked yelp before catching it easily in one hand.

“Thank you, honey,” he says, cracking the seal on the bottle and pouring in a liberal amount of oil. “I can always count on you!”

Your bond with Hanbin has grown stronger. +1 Hanbin Point. Please add +1 Hanbin Point to your scoresheet.

You grin, standing next to Hanbin and resting your head on his shoulder. He chuckles at your rare display of affection.

You finally pull out your phone and read the urgent series of texts…

“Something did happen today,” Hanbin says softly, placing more beef into the pan. “At the meeting. I’m sure you could already tell.”

You nod, quietly watching the oil bubble around the meat.

“Gyubinnie didn’t say anything to you though?” He asks with a pout. “He always spills the beans to you. I wonder why he didn’t tell you yet.”

Maybe he was trying to, you think.

“But I’d imagine it’s the same reason that I don’t want to tell you,” Hanbin continues with a laugh. “The truth is, I never saw this coming, lovey. I don’t know what we’re gonna do.”

You lock eyes with him, brow furrowed with concern as your face pleads for him to tell you.

Hanbin swallows, appearing nervous again. “I don’t want to be doing this unless it’s all of us. Together. It’s not right any other way.”

・゜゜ . . * ✧･ﾟ・ ✧･ﾟ: ・゜゜・．

If you chose "Matt-sterious Texts", read below:

Your fear of Hanbin’s scolding is strong, but your curiosity about the multiple buzzing texts in your pocket is undoubtedly stronger.

Pulling out your phone, you read the series of urgent texts…

Your bond with Matthew has grown stronger. +1 Matthew Point. Please add +1 Matthew Point to your scoresheet.

What did Matt mean by that? Things might get even harder on me now?

“F*ck, the vegetable oil,” you whisper, grabbing the bottle and sprinting towards the kitchen. You stop dead in your tracks when you find Hanbin glaring at you, hand on his hip in the sassiest stance a man could possibly take.

You wince at him, sheepishly walking up to him and handing him the unopened bottle.

“Seriously? I had to turn the burner off,” he scolds as he takes the bottle, turning around and resuming his pan frying. “If you’re not going to be helpful, then just sit over there so you don’t keep f*cking things up.”

Hanbin could have a viper tongue when he was mad. Fortunately, he knew this about himself and he was already turning around to apologize as soon as the words came out of his mouth.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t soon enough to keep a tear from rolling down your cheek.

“Ohhhh, no,” Hanbin coos, pulling you in for a hug immediately and cradling your head to his chest. “I’m so sorry, honey. I didn’t mean that.”

He holds you close to his side as he turns you both around so he can cook and dote on you simultaneously. “Are you okay, (Y/N)? Did something distract you earlier?”

You nod slowly into his shoulder, pulling out your phone and holding up the texts from Matthew so Hanbin can read them.

“Ahhh, I see,” he says, patting your head. “This would be pretty bothersome to read, huh?”

You gulp sadly, a little pout on your lips that Hanbin absolutely lights up at.

“I’ll bring Matthew’s papers to the company,” he assures quickly. “And I guess I should explain what’s going on to you, too. I really don’t want to be the bearer of tough news, but you deserve to know.”

・゜゜ . . * ✧･ﾟ・ ✧･ﾟ: ・゜゜・．

All Continue Reading Below

“What he’s trying to say is, we’re having a comeback,” Yujin announces unceremoniously as he sits down at the kitchen table. Hanbin turns around and glares at him but Yujin just shrugs. “What? You were gonna find out eventually that you’re getting left in the dust. So what if I don’t sugar coat it? You only have yourself to blame anyway.”

You’re not mad at him. You know he’s just extra angry tonight about his audition. Still, the news feels like a gut punch-- and you’ve been taking a lot of those lately. You feel a lump in your throat start to form, but the sudden question of why this was happening distracts you momentarily.

President Kim couldn’t possibly think rehabilitating such a problematic group was a good investment of his money or time or reputation.

So what was he planning?

“I’m sorry, (Y/N),” Hanbin says, shaking his head. “I’m just as upset as you are.”

Yujin snorts. “Don’t oversell it.”

“Yujin-ah--,” Hanbin starts to scold when he’s interrupted by ecstatic shouting.

“Kimchi: SECURED,” Gyuvin announces excitedly as he and Jiwoong enter the dorm with a big container of kimchi from the shop down the street.

“Ew, you’re so embarrassing,” Yujin says annoyedly as his eyes glue to his phone screen. “Just say you got the kimchi in a normal way.”

Gyuvin takes both of Yujin’s cheeks in one hand and squishes them emphatically. “I live to embarrass my only son.”

“Hello?” A voice suddenly calls from the front of the dorm. “Oh, it smells amazing in here.”

Manager Sang bumbles into the kitchen, a big envelope tucked under his arm. He’s wearing a corduroy button up, dress khakis and thick-framed black glasses— his Total Control Badge hanging from a lanyard around his neck.

He usually checks in on the dorm more often, but this is the first time you’ve seen Manager Sang this week. Except, of course, for the brief appearance of his likeness at King Hyunwoo’s palace last night. You eye him up and down curiously.

“Hanbinnie’s cooking for you all again, I see,” he observes with a chuckle before scanning the room and fixing on Yujin.” “Yujinnie, I have some… paperwork for you.”

“Huh?” Yujin responds like a zombie, completely worn out from his week of exams and his failed audition. “Paperwork? Is it for next semester?”

“Yeah, uh, just,” Manager Sang stammers, placing the envelope on the table in front of your maknae. “Just some stuff we need you to sign.”

“I’m gonna start looking at class options tomorrow,” Yujin says, a bit of levity in his voice as he talks about continuing school. He picks up the envelope and begins ripping it open, excitement continuing to build in his voice. “Maybe it’s a good idea to get my academic requirements out of the way first anyway.”

The smile on his face fades slowly as he pulls out a large, stapled packet of what appear to be legal documents.

“This—… this is my contract with the company to pay for my university,” Yujin says confusedly. “Do I just have to sign to renew it for next semester or something?”

Manager Sang swallows hard, replying shakily, “Well… Not exactly…”

Yujin starts to leaf through the pages of the contract, his brow furrowing with concern. “Why--... Why are a bunch of things circled in red Sharpie?”

“You see, um... President Kim heard from your university’s dance department that you did not pass your audition today,” Manager Sang explains nervously. “So we need to collect some signatures and the promised payment for failure to succeed. Including accrued interest, of course.”

“PAYMENT!?” Yujin shouts, standing up from his chair-- the speed at which he continues to flip the pages of the contract is growing alarming. No one moves a muscle as you wait for Manager Sang to fix the problem, like he always does.

“Y-yes, Yujinnie. Don’t you remember?” Manager Sang replies, a sweat beginning to break at his hairline. “If you failed to pass the audition for next semester, Total Control is no longer liable to pay for this past semester of your university studies.”

The contract falls from Yujin’s hands and onto the table. You take the opportunity to pick it up and rifle through it as Manager Sang continues to mumble on about clauses and fine-print.

You find it on the fourteenth page, a small-print section labeled and circled in red Sharpie: Proceedings for Failure to Succeed.

A silence falls over the room. You’re almost afraid to look at Yujin— the energy radiating from him is absolutely white-hot.

“You told me to sign this,” Yujin says finally through gritted teeth. Jabbing a finger right at the middle of Manager Sang’s chest, he accuses, “You read the fine-print for me and you told me it was safe to sign.”

ZeroBaseOne had once been so popular that you’d had too many managers and staff to keep track of. Manager Sang had been with you since pre-debut, though, and the members favored him because of the bond that was shared. In recent years, President Kim had also begun to favor Manager Sang and promoted him to Head Manager. When ZB1 and Total Control effectively collapsed, Manager Sang was the only manager who remained at the dying company.

You’re suddenly faced with another question of ‘why’.

“I’m sorry you’re so upset,” Manager Sang swallows, stepping backward out of Yujin’s range of motion. “You should always read a contract yourself, Yujinnie. Maybe this can be a lesson for you. In the meantime, the payment is due by Monday.”

Manager Sang rushes out of the dorm and Yujin runs after him.

“Go get him and calm him down,” Hanbin orders the three of you, keeping his hands on the skillet handle and spatula to keep from tearing his hair out. “Now!”

You, Jiwoong and Gyuvin clamber out of the kitchen towards the front door— your hands grabbing the hem of Yujin’s t-shirt just before he escapes into the cool, night air.

He’s screaming, kicking, crying and the force of his despair knocks you both down to the floor. Jiwoong locks the front door as Yujin collapses onto you.

“It’s not fair,” he cries and you just smother him into you more— Gyuvin and Jiwoong wrapping themselves around him so that he’s contained on all sides. “It’s not fair.”

“It’s not,” you agree, knowing all too well the gut wrenching pain of your f*cked up company betraying you. “It’s not fair at all.”

“It’s gonna be okay, Yujinnie,” Gyuvin soothes, rubbing his back. “It’s all gonna work out.”

“I want to go,” Yujin begs— not you or Gyuvin or Jiwoong, but the universe. He’s not speaking entirely intelligibly, but you know he means he just wants to keep going to school. ��I can’t pay that money-- I can’t pay it so I can’t go anymore and I JUST WANT TO GO!”

“COMMAND HEARD: GO. COMMAND ACCEPTED. DESTINATION: METAVERSE. HAVE A NICE TRIP!”

“She really just does whatever she wants, huh?” Gyuvin wonders, shaking his head.

“What!?” Jiwoong shouts as that familiar red haze fills the air. “I thought the Metaverse was that castle at Total Control? That’s what Gyuvin said while we were at the market just now!”

“I—… thought so, too,” you say, watching as your dorm transforms into a cold, damp stone labyrinth. It’s dark; the only light coming from wooden torches hung on the walls of rock every few feet. Haunting screams and cries echo and ricochet down the hallway.

“Oh good,” Yujin says as he sits up, wiping his eyes and nose and looking around at his new surroundings. “I’m dead.”

“I…” You start to reply, marveling at what you can only assume to be the Metaverse version of your dorm. “I wouldn’t count on that just yet.”

Yujin throws his arms up exasperatedly. “Well, sh*t! Can someone put me out of my misery already?”

“(Y/N), this… this looks like some sort of prison,” Jiwoong whispers, palm up-turned towards the dark, stone ceiling above— a drop of murky water splashing onto his skin.

“Sounds like one, too,” Gyuvin snorts despite the chilled expression on his face giving him away.

“Okay, but for real,” Yujin pipes up behind you, the slightest bit of worry starting to creep into his voice. “Did I pass out or, like… get sick or something?”

“Yeah,” you reply absentmindedly, a million different questions running through your own head. Yujin starts to wander off a bit and your hand shoots out to grab his wrist— keeping him safely glued to your side. “Or something.”

“Hey, let me go,” Yujin huffs, trying to free himself from your grasp. “This is my dream, isn’t it?”

You look at your angry maknae, finding red, puffy eyes and a still-quivering lip from the grief he’d just suffered.

Not a chance in hell that you’re letting him go. He’ll thank you one day.

“F*cking let go, (Y/N),” he shouts, gripping your forearm with his free hand and twisting. “Even in my subconscious, you’re such a d*ck!”

But that day is not today.

“WHO DARES TO TRESPASS IN THE ROYAL DUNGEON!?” A shadow guard’s voice bellows down the hallway that, in real life, leads to Yujin and Hanbin’s bedrooms.

“Sh*t, sh*t, sh*t,” Gyuvin says, pushing Jiwoong down with him to hide in a crevice in the stone wall. There’s another crevice of a similar size a bit farther away which you dart towards, using all your effort to pull a reluctant Yujin to safety with you.

“Owww,” Yujin whines as you shove him out of sight of the shadow guard bumbling down the hallway. You squish his lips together with your free hand, eyes begging him to be quiet. It’s easy to see the message isn’t registering. Instead, you watch in slow motion as Yujin’s pointer finger rises from his side and goes straight into your left ear.

He grins triumphantly as you jump back and, in your discomfort, let go of Yujin’s wrist. He runs out of the cove in the wall and straight into the path of the shadow guard. Gyuvin catches your eye from across the dark hallway-- fear apparent as he looks to you for a new game plan.

“Whoah, this looks SO real,” Yujin marvels as the shadow guard breaks out in a sprint towards him. You gasp in horror as the giant figure crashes into Yujin, knocking him to the ground-- the back of his head hitting the cold stone beneath him. He sits up shakily, rubbing the back of his head and then bringing his hand towards his face.

The rich, red sheen of blood dripping from his fingers makes your heart sink to your stomach.

“This... feels so real, too, actually,” Yujin says dazedly as the shadow guard pulls him to his knees by the collar of his shirt. “(Y/N)...? (Y/N), I think I need h--....”

Your gaze fixes back on Gyuvin as you make a fist at him, signaling it's time for an all-out attack. He nods, tapping Jiwoong beside him to get ready. You hold up three fingers, then two, one...

You take the first attack. A gust of wind flies from your palm, but unlike the shadow guards you’d encountered before, this one doesn’t fall to the ground. Instead, it merely teeters before righting itself and turning to face you.

Gyuvin releases a blast of ice next, icicles flying through the air and tearing a hole through the shadow guard’s chest. It’s clear the wound is serious as the guard loses his grip on Yujin, the youngest boy collapsing limply to the ground again.

But much to your horror, the wound in the shadow’s chest begins to mend itself-- the black vapors inside of him growing thicker and thicker by the second.

“Jiwoong-ah, NOW!” You shout as a series of fireballs fly towards the shadow. They rip three separate holes in the guard’s form, finally knocking him backwards. But it’s not enough to vanquish the shadow guard. You need more power and, as the shadow guard’s wounds begin to heal again, you need it fast.

~I think it’s time we acquired a new skill. What do you say, my friend?~

“I think your timing is impeccable, Arsène,” you praise, closing your eyes as you feel a new source of power surge through you. You extend your arms, an immeasurable amount of flower petals flying from your palms and attaching to the shadow guard.

New Skill Unlocked: In Bloom ˚❀༉‧₊

The guard sinks to the ground as he’s buried alive in flower petals and you run to Yujin, who’s staring wide-eyed up at you— one hand still cradling the wound on his head.

“Yujin-ah,” Gyuvin calls as he and Jiwoong land next to you. “Are you okay? Are you dizzy?”

Yujin shakes his head innocently. “N-no…”

“Which question was that an answer to?” Jiwoong asks, brow furrowed in concern.

“I’m okay, I think,” Yujin responds. You gently detach his hand from the back of his head and bring it toward you in the dim light, finding more fresh blood on his fingers. He looks up at you, much more scared than before. “What’s happening?”

You take his blood-stained hand and pull him to his feet. “You’re going to be okay, Yujinnie. I promise.”

“But—,” Yujin starts to protest as Gyuvin interrupts him.

“I think we should take a look around, (Y/N),” your right-hand man suggests, wrapping an arm supportively around the youngest’s shoulders. He gestures to the incapacitated guard on the ground, “Ya know, while we have the chance?”

You nod decisively. “I think you’re right, Binnie. Let’s tread carefully— stay behind me.”

You take a deep breath as you follow the direction of the loudest screams: they’re coming from where Yujin’s room is. As you approach, you find metal prison bars running vertically in the cement doorway, revealing a Metaverse version of your maknae. He’s wearing matching dark grey and white striped shirt and pants, hunched over a grey, sleight desk as the sound of furious pencil scribbles echo off the damp walls.

“Is that--... Is that me?” Yujin whispers, pushing you aside so he can get a better look. “Why the hell am I a prisoner!?”

“I think each one of us has a cell just like this,” you say, looking at Gyuvin and Jiwoong. “It might be a reflection of how President Kim sees us: his prisoners.”

Metaverse Yujin puts his pencil down, picking up the finished document in his hand and looking it over. He slides it to the side of the desk, but, as soon as he does, the paper disappears. Metaverse Yujin screams in frustration, slamming his fists on the desk as he grabs another sheet of paper from the pile and continues his maniacal pencil scribbling.

“To think we’re all serving time for crimes that President Kim committed,” Jiwoong shudders, shaking his head in disgust.

“I’d say it’s a pretty good reflection of our reality,” Gyuvin says, looking at you sadly. “It only makes sense our dorm is King Hyunwoo’s dungeon.”

“Hold on. Did you just say President Kim’s crimes?” Yujin asks, a confused frown on his face. “And… King Hyunwoo?”

You watch as Metaverse Yujin has another episode of hysterics. If President Kim thinks Yujin is suffering this much... It’s because he’s personally made sure that he is.

“Yujin-ah!” Yujin calls, knocking on the metal bars with his knuckles. “Over here!”

Metaverse Yujin’s head snaps around, locking eyes with his real-life counterpart. He stands up from his desk-- a wild, frantic look in his eyes as he runs to the metal-barred doorway. Yujin jumps back as the Metaverse Yujin’s bleeding knuckles wrap around the bars, shaking them desperately. “Make it stop! Please, make it f*cking stop!”

“What happened to you, Yujinnie?” Jiwoong asks, eyeing the young prisoner with a concern you hadn’t seen from him in a long time. “Why are you being held captive like this?”

“You don’t have much time,” Metaverse Yujin whispers, trembling as he peers down the hallway. “He’s coming back. I can’t be punished again. I CAN’T!”

“Ssssh, Yujinnie. It’s gonna be okay,” Gyuvin soothes, placing a hand on top of the prisoner’s. “We’re gonna get you out of here!”

Metaverse Yujinnie sinks to the ground in despair. “You can’t... I can’t...”

“But... I can,” Yujin whispers. You look over at him to see that he’s crying again, but this time his tears are different. They’re not helpless. They’re defiant. “I can get you out of here. I can make President Kim pay for what he’s done to you. I... I can make sure I never have to feel like this ever again.”

“Yujin-sshi,” an ominous voice echoes down the hall. Your body tenses and you grab Yujin by the shoulders, shoving him behind you to shield him. “Are you working hard, Yujin-sshi? Are you making something of yourself yet?”

As the figure comes into focus, your lips part in shock. “Manager Sang?”

“You think you can escape the fate that King Hyunwoo chose for you, Yujin-sshi?” Manager Sang mocks as he draws closer. His chest is bound in chains-- a giant lock at the front. “What about you, (Y/N)-sshi? Do you really dare to climb out of the grave you’ve been hiding in this year? Trying to protect your youngest member when it was your carelessness that killed his future in the first place...”

“You--... you’re in on this?” Gyuvin asks, disgusted at the man who’d taken care of you the most throughout your careers. “You were on President Kim’s side this whole time!? How long have you been selling us out for?”

“Since the day I made... the choice. When the King asked me to wrap (Y/N)-sshi’s hands around the wheel that night while he fled the scene, I made the choice,” Manager Sang announces, eyes glowing red. “The choice to call the paparazzi when Jiwoong-sshi’s out at night. The choice to deliver the bribe checks to the media when Gyuvin-sshi schedules another meeting. And the choice to convince the youngest member to sign a contract.”

It’s only now you realize that someone’s hand is gripping into your upper arm, nails digging into your skin. You turn to your right, ready to pry them off before you remember who you’d placed behind you to shield them.

“President Kim knew you would fail, Yujin-sshi,” Manager Sang continues. “Everyone at the company knew you would fail. That’s the only reason the investment was approved in the first place.”

Yujin’s fingers have turned white with how hard they’re gripping you, but the look in his eyes makes you hesitant to interrupt him-- no matter how painful it is for you. He’s panting heavily in an attempt to catch his breath and, before you know it, he’s started screaming.

“(Y/N)...” Gyuvin says softly, his gaze falling to your arm. A stream of blood has begun trickling down your arm past Yujin’s fingers.

You shake your head. You’ll just have to power through it.

“And, just on the off chance that you really wouldn’t fail, President Kim asked me to help take some measures to ensure that you did,” Manager Sang says with a satisfied smile. “President Kim needed my help. He always needs my help. So, I asked you for your schedule at the beginning of the week: how else would Total Control have known to plan such a bombshell of a meeting for ZeroBaseOne just minutes before your audition, Yujin-sshi?”

“SHUT UP!” Yujin shouts behind you. His hand finally leaves your arm, starting to hit the concrete wall next to him with his fists. “EVERYONE JUST SHUT UP!”

NO CAN DO, FINE SIR. THERE’S SOMETHING I MUST MAKE YOU PRIVY TO: I AM ZORRO, MASKED SWORDSMAN AND YOUR NEW PARTNER IN THIS QUEST FOR JUSTICE.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!?” Yujin shouts, crouching down to the ground-- trying to find any semblance of reality he can.

THOUGH THE BURDEN OF GREAT PURPOSE IS A MIGHTY ONE, WE WILL BEAR THE WEIGHT TOGETHER. IT’S TIME TO TAKE BACK YOUR LIFE... COMMENCE THE FIGHT!

Jiwoong gasps as a mask begins to form on Yujin’s face-- the material fusing with his skin as it has each time before. You wish your youngest member didn’t have to feel this pain or join the dangerous fight you accidentally stumbled into this week. It had always been your instinct to continue to protect him, no matter how much he resented you.

SSchrip...

New Confidant Unlocked: Magician *ੈ Han Yujin

But after seeing him promise Metaverse Yujin to stop the pain he’s been feeling, you know for sure that Yujin has grown into the man you’d all hoped he would. He didn’t need to be shielded from the truth. In fact, he might be crucial in helping you expose it.

Yujin is still doubled over, a new mask resting across his eyes. You can’t help but smile when you see the bunny ears on each side.

“If you’re all done messing around,” Manager Sang suddenly says behind you, “I’d like to kill you so I can collect my check.”

Jiwoong steps forward, raising his hand as he prepares to throw a fireball, but something restrains his arm before he can. Yujin smirks, releasing Jiwoong’s hand from his grip.

Step aside, Hyung... I'll handle this. ‧ ₊ ✫ ˚・

Jiwoong makes room for Yujin at the front, folding his arms across his chest with a laugh. “Less work for me.”

New Skill Unlocked: Hyung Card ೀ

When Yujin takes center, you’re confused when he doesn’t raise his hands in the direction of Manager Sang like you, Gyuvin and Jiwoong usually do to use your powers. Instead, he brings them together, fingers loosely interlacing as his palms meet. He stares at his thumbs, then up at Manager Sang without blinking.

“Oh sh*t,” Gyuvin says with a grin as a strange, purple fog forms above Yujin and slowly engulfs Manager Sang. Yujin finally blinks and the cloud lets up, revealing your manager writhing on the ground in a confused and panicked state.

“Too cute,” Manager Sang whispers over and over, hands covering his eyes. “He’s just too cute. Too cute. TOO CUTE!”

“Wait, WHAT!?” Yujin shouts, stamping his foot. “Did I just brainwash him with... cuteness!?”

New Skill Unlocked: Super Aegyo ₊˚⊹♡

The three of you very poorly stifle your laughter as Yujin turns around to glare at you. His mask now has glowing pink cheeks and little heart-shaped bubbles flying from the eye holes. You have to look away from all the cuteness before it brainwashes you, too.

“Oh, COME ON!” Yujin yells with a pout. “I’m not cute! I’m not a baby! You saw how fast I took him down!”

“You can sulk about it later, Yujinnie,” you say, grabbing his shoulders and turning him back around. “How about you finish this?”

“Really?” Yujin asks, brow raised in surprise. “You think I can?”

“I know you can,” you respond with a smile. “And I know you’re upset with your power, but the truth is... I think it might be the strongest one yet.”

He smiles back at you. “Thanks.”

Bringing his palms together again and focusing his eyes on Manager Sang, another cloud of purple fog swallows up your manager until a soft plea can be heard from within it.

“Please, please stop,” Manager Sang begs as Yujin blinks away the fog. “I--... I can’t do this anymore. I... I surrender.”

You approach him cautiously, Gyuvin, Yujin and Jiwoong following suit. “You... surrender?”

“Yes, I--... I can change! I’ve worked for King Hyunwoo... President Kim... for so long. I remember when you all were just kids still waiting to debut,” he says, a soft, reminiscent smile forming on his lips. “I knew you’d be successful. I knew it from the moment you stepped on stage at your first FanCon. None of the groups before you at Total Control ever had enough support to have a FanCon. But you did within just three months.”

“Then why have you been doing this?” Gyuvin asks, distrust still palpable in his voice. “Playing President Kim’s lackey?”

“Last year. After... everything happened,” Manager Sang says with a regretful sigh. “I handed in my resignation letter. But my wife had just had a baby that same month and... our baby was very ill when she was born. President Kim promised to give me a raise if I continued working and reported all of your information back to him. For many reasons, I couldn’t say no.”

“But we trusted you,” Jiwoong says quietly. “We trusted you and you... You’ve just been helping President Kim hurt us? You could’ve done the right thing at any point this year. Can you really sleep at night knowing the harm you’ve caused?”

“I’ll regret it for the rest of my life,” Manager Sang answers after a long moment. “After my involvement with staging the crime scene, I was at the mercy of President Kim. If I hadn’t done that... I truly wish I hadn’t played along for once. I’m sorry for the harm I’ve caused you, (Y/N)-sshi. I’m sorry for the harm I’ve continued to cause you all.”

You nod solemnly. “I wish you could tell the truth now in the real world. But I don’t see how that would be possible.”

“M-maybe... I--... C-can...” Manager Sang’s voice becomes choppy, his form appearing to glitch. He continues to glitch in and out until finally fading away.

Gyuvin runs his hand through the space which was previously occupied by Manager Sang, finding only air in his place. “What the hell was that?”

“I’m not sure,” you say, brow furrowing as you think of the implications of the events that just unfolded. Had Metaverse Manager Sang been a projection of President Kim’s cognition like everything else in the Metaverse has been... Or was it Manager Sang’s own cognition that had apologized to them just now? “I think we need to--.”

Thud.

“Yujin-ah!” Jiwoong shouts as your youngest topples over onto the cold, damp cement. You reach your hand out, shielding Yujin’s head from taking any more damage tonight.

“Yujin-ah,” you call, the three of you moving him into a more comfortable position. “Can you hear me? We’re going home now, okay?”

As soon as you say the words, the red haze around you begins to dissipate. The dark prison walls turn plastered and beige again-- the doors to each of your rooms reappearing in the place of the vertical metal bars.

“WE DO AWAIT YOUR HASTY RETURN. PLEASE BE ADVISED THAT ANY INJURY SUSTAINED IN THE METAVERSE MAY CARRY OVER INTO THE REAL WORLD. TAKE CARE OF YOUR HEALTH.”

“Is--... Is she watching us?” Gyuvin asks with a frown.

“Everything okay out there guys?”

Fuck. You totally forgot Hanbin was still in the kitchen.

“We need to get Yujin to his room right now,” you urge, looking at your youngest member sprawled out on the floor of the foyer.

Both Gyuvin and Jiwoong conveniently avoid your gaze…

Mini-Decision: Someone’s gotta carry Yujin. Will you say “Ugh, Fine” or “Woongie SO Strong”? ~

Author’s Note: PLEASE only choose “ugh, fine” if you are Yujin’s real age/a minor! Obviously Yujin is 18 in this fic, but that’s just for story purposes. ONLY MINORS choose this option if you’d like to unlock Yujin’s ending at the end! This choice has a hint of romance so a reminder that this fic isn’t real, Yujin is just a character in this story, the romance is all age appropriate and JUST FICTION. Thank you for being respectful and kind!

If you chose “Ugh, Fine”, read below:

With a heavy sigh, you grab Yujin’s left arm and point to Jiwoong to grab the other one. Gyuvin supports him and, together they lift Yujin onto your back. “Stay here and distract Hanbinnie,” you whisper, rushing down the hall as fast as you can and into Yujin’s room.

“We’re... Um...” You hear Gyuvin call to Hanbin in the kitchen, “Changing! Yeah. We’re just changing.”

“Oh for f*ck’s sake,” Jiwoong mutters.

“... In the hallway?” Hanbin responds confusedly, footsteps pattering towards the foyer as you lock the door behind you. “You’re wearing the same clothes as you were before.”

“I meant metaphorically,” Gyuvin clarifies with a nervous laugh. What follows is a loud smack and a mumbled, “Ow.”

You sit down on the edge of Yujin’s bed, unwrapping his arms from around your neck and situating him so that he’s propped up on his pillows. He looks so peaceful resting like this and you wish you could just let him sleep, but you need to wake him up to check if he has a concussion first.

“Yujin-ah,” you say softly, brushing a lock of hair from his eyes. His lashes start to flutter against his cheeks until they’re staring up at you. He sits up quickly-- too quickly and you gently nudge him back down to a reclined position. “Don’t move too fast. You’ll get dizzy. How do you feel?”

“Was it real?” He asks excitedly, stars in his eyes. “The dungeon? The magic powers? Manager Sang?”

You press your lips together, conflicted. You could still tell Yujin it wasn’t real. That he hit his head running to the door and must’ve had a crazy dream. That everything was the way it had always been. That he could go back to passively disliking you and maybe working out a new deal with President Kim and Manager Sang. That he won’t get hurt again...

“Yeah,” you admit finally. “It was all real.”

“I knew it,” Yujin says with a grin, folding his arms across his chest satisfactorily. “I knew you wouldn’t lie to me. You need my help, obviously”

You smile back at him. “I do need your help actually. But, more importantly, you need your help.”

Yujin’s smile fades as he looks down at his lap. He doesn’t say anything, but his silence alone confirms the truth.

“I’m so sorry, Yujinnie,” you say, placing a hand on his wrist. “I wish you didn’t have to go through any of this. I wish we all could’ve stayed as happy as we always were forever. I’d do anything to go back and change it. Maybe now I can finally make things right... and with you by my side again.”

Much to your surprise, your typically sarcastic and affection-avoidant maknae places his hand on top of yours. “It’s not your fault, (Y/N). I didn’t know that before. But I do now.”

“Oh, it’s really okay--.”

“It’s not,” Yujin cuts you off. He’s clearly a bit uncomfortable with the sincerity he’s having to display, but you appreciate it nonetheless. “And I’m sorry.”

“That actually means a lot to me,” you say with a smile, which Yujin happily returns. “I missed talking to you, kiddo.”

“Oh come on! We’re almost the exact same age. I’m NOT a kiddo,” he corrects with a groan. He then looks at his lap, a little blush on his cheeks. “And I’ll prove it to you.”

Your bond with Yujin has grown stronger. +1 Yujin Point. Please add +1 Yujin Point to your scoresheet.

“(Y/N), open the door,” Gyuvin whisper-yells as he jiggles the doorknob. You rush over to the door, Jiwoong and Gyuvin almost knocking you over as they barge inside.

・゜゜ . . * ✧･ﾟ・ ✧･ﾟ: ・゜゜・．

If you chose "Woongie SO Strong", read below:

“Oh my goodness,” you coo quietly, grabbing Jiwoong’s right bicep and squeezing. “I didn’t realize how big your arms were!”

“Wh—… What?” Jiwoong stammers as you continue to feel up his arm. “Me?”

“Woongie soooooo strong,” you sing-song, batting your eyelashes at him for full effect.

Unfortunately for Jiwoong, you know exactly how to play to his weakness and his chest begins to puff at your flattering. “I— I guess, yeah. Yeah! I kind of totally am actually.”

Gyuvin snorts, turning away from you to keep from ruining your evil plot.

“So stroooong and SO handsome,” you add, just to knock it out of the park.

“I’ve heard this a lot in my lifetime actually, but,” Jiwoong replies, one eyebrow piquing at you charismatically, “I never thought I’d hear it from you. Maybe we could talk more about how handsome and strong you think I am over coffee or—.”

“—SO strong you could carry a full-sized Yujin!” You finish. Trap successful.

Jiwoong’s previously seductive expression turns quickly to disappointment. “Aw,” he grumbles, removing his arm from your grasp. “I thought you’d finally seen the light.”

“The light being…?” Gyuvin asks, patting Jiwoong’s shoulder comfortingly.

“Me,” Jiwoong answers, brushing Gyuvin’s hand off and fixing his shirt; trying to re-establish his dignity. “I thought you’d finally seen me.”

Your eyes widen in surprise at the sincerity of his last sentence. Jiwoong is surprised by it too and he coughs awkwardly to distract from it.

“Okay, okay. I’ll do it,” Jiwoong relents, stooping down and picking up Yujin all by himself.

“Holy sh*t, you actually are kind of strong,” you marvel a bit at his unexpected strength.

Jiwoong shrugs as he carries Yujin down the hall to his room. “I know. Blew your chance though.”

Your bond with Jiwoong has grown stronger. +1 Jiwoong Point. Please add +1 Jiwoong Point to your scoresheet.

As Jiwoong shuts Yujin’s door behind him, you look up at Gyuvin confusedly and whisper, “He’s just joking around, right?”

“Kids, what’re you doing out there?” Hanbin asks as you hear the oil in the skillet slowly stop sizzling. Entering the hallway, his brow furrows as he looks around. “Where’d Yujinnie go? Didn’t I tell you to calm him down?”

“We did,” Gyuvin answers quickly. “In fact, we got him so calm that he’s now unconscious.”

Hanbin’s eyes bulge at this. “Excuse me!?”

You sigh, looking up at the ceiling and shaking your head. You should’ve made Gyuvin carry Yujin instead.

“I mean, he’s just taking a nap,” Gyuvin thankfully corrects his previous blunder.

“But—… I just finished dinner,” Hanbin responds sadly. With a sigh, he continues, “I understand though. It’s been a hard day for him. You guys’ll still eat, right?”

“Of course!” Gyuvin exclaims as you nod enthusiastically beside him. “Um, could you just give us a couple minutes though?”

“Oh, uh… Sure,” Hanbin agrees confusedly. “Why?”

“I have to… Give… (Y/N)… something,” Gyuvin improvs absolutely seamlessly. “Yeah, I have to give (Y/N) something now or else I’ll forget to do it later! We’ll be riiiiight back.”

“Oookaaay,” Hanbin says with a sigh as you and Gyuvin run suspiciously down the hall. “I’ll just bring a bowl to Gunwook in the meantime, I guess.”

・゜゜ . . * ✧･ﾟ・ ✧･ﾟ: ・゜゜・．

All Continue Reading Below

JUNE 21st -- NIGHT

After eventually scarfing down beef bulgogi like it's your occupation, the four members of the Phantom Thieves sit on Yujin’s bed-- gathered around your youngest member like he’s the baby Jesus in his manger. It’s a bit of a funny sight.

“Are you sure you're alright, Yujinnie?” Gyuvin asks, turning Yujin’s head so he can see the back of it. “It’s healed a lot. And you can’t even see the indents on (Y/N)’s arm anymore… But still. That was way too close of a call.”

“Way too close,” you agree, bottom lip tucking between your teeth in thought. “If injuries we get in the Metaverse can carry over to the real world… What if we had a way to heal them while we were still in there?”

“You mean, like, medicine and bandages and stuff? Can you bring real world objects into the Metaverse like that?” Jiwoong asks.

“I don’t see why not,” you reply, tilting your head to the side as you consider it. “We’re able to bring our phones in with us. Maybe anything that’s in our hands or pockets is fair game. I think we need to stock up on whatever we can get.”

“So… what happens now?” Yujin asks and it’s a very good question. “We’re—… We’re gonna take down President Kim? Through the… Metaverse, or whatever? How do we even do that?”

“I don’t really know yet,” you admit honestly. “But I think we’re getting closer to finding the answer. All thanks to the newest member of the Phantom Thieves!”

A reluctant smile turns up one corner of Yujin’s lips. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I guess I had to do one thing well tonight.”

“We’ll fix that, too,” you say and you mean it. “We’ll get you back in school and we’ll get all your debt paid, okay? Everyone’s debt will get paid.”

“We’re gonna need to plant some money trees, then,” Gyuvin says, scratching the back of his neck. “We can’t stockpile meds and first aid sh*t and then pay Yujinnie’s university debt on our own. Jiwoong hyung’s in the negative over there after last night.”

“Hey, I have a little bit of money left,” Jiwoong says, pulling out his wallet and opening it. It’s completely empty. “F*ck, did I lose my ID too?”

“Gyubinnie’s right,” Yujin says with a nod. “We need money. And as the news and best member of the Phantom Thieves, I’m about to make a suggestion that no one will like…”

“No…” You whisper.

“You can’t mean,” Gyuvin whispers.

“I think we should try to get Ricky hyung on board,” Yujin says definitively; a chorus of groans echoing into the air. “I mean, do you guys have any better ideas for quick cash?”

“But Ricky hates me,” you whine, leaning your forehead on Jiwoong’s shoulder.

“To be fair, everyone basically hates you,” Yujin says with a shrug. Curse your savage maknae. “But, once they know the truth, they won’t anymore. Probably. Ricky included. Probably.”

You sigh defeatedly. “I guess if there’s really no better option… It’s settled. We’ll go talk to Ricky at his Club Jeune Et Riche on Friday.”

“Oooh,” Jiwoong hums, shaking his head. “No can do. We’ll be at the company.”

Gyuvin smacks Jiwoong so hard, he goes flying backward off the bed. “If you don’t shut your mouth--.”

“I already know about that actually,” you say, chewing your cheek. “Courtesy of our smart-mouthed maknae.”

Yujin smiles sheepishly. “Sorry. Again.”

“I’m sorry, (Y/N),” Gyuvin says, looking at you shamefully. “I wanted you to hear it from me, but I... Guess I fumbled the bag.”

You’re not mad at Gyuvin either. Or any of your members (except Hao-- you’re always mad at Hao). You just feel sad. And left out. And hurt. And happy that maybe you didn’t ruin their lives completely. And okay, maybe a bit mad.

But a leader must trudge on.

“It’s okay. I’ll go talk to Ricky on Friday by myself then,” you announce, biting your lip. “I just can’t imagine he’d even give me the time of day...”

Jiwoong clears his throat awkwardly, climbing back up onto Yujin’s bed. “Well, what if he didn’t know it was you he was talking to?”

You raise an eyebrow at him curiously. “What are you suggesting?”

“What if... American heiress and art collector, Rebecca Song, paid him a visit instead?” Jiwoong suggests with a grin.

“Who’s Rebecca Song?” Gyuvin asks confusedly. “Or... is that the--... That’s the point, isn’t it? Okay, I get it now.”

“Some acting work for (Y/N)? Don’t you have the lowest rated web drama of all time or something?” Yujin muses, smiling evilly as he considers it. “Make sure you film it.”

It’s not a bad suggestion though. You like to think you’ve gotten better at acting since your web drama fiasco in 2019 (a romantic comedy set in a post-apocalyptic world overrun by clowns instead of zombies), but you have no proof of that. Still, Ricky could very well slam the door at just the sight of your face...

What do you wanna do, Player?

⁺⋆✰ Chapter Choice ✰⋆⁺

It's your decision, Player. Will you visit Ricky as...

CHOICE 1: Yourself

CHOICE 2: Rebecca Song: Esteemed Foreign Art Collector

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